


Rendezvous

by TaxicabKanefessions



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-05-19 07:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 26,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaxicabKanefessions/pseuds/TaxicabKanefessions
Summary: Beelzebub and Gabriel expand their working relationship after the Armageddidn't. Unfortunately, Heaven and Hell don't take kindly to fraternizing.





	1. Chapter 1

Beelzebub's heart, whatever ze had as a stand-in for a heart anyway, pounded as ze pressed zir back against the wall. Ze chided it, angrily. Ze was out of the Master's office, after all! There was absolutely no reason to act like this when there were a million other things to do! Zir body's response was to point out that being out of the office was possibly accidental and almost definitely terrifyingly temporary. It would keep right on panicking as long as it wanted. The cloud of flies around zem zipped in agreement.

"Lord Beelzebub?"

Zir body, at least, also recognized that panicking in the open was exceedingly dangerous in Hell. It swallowed down the pounding heart and panting lungs and settled the flies back to their lazy circling. Almost immediately, Beelzebub was back to a proper brood.

Dagon had seen the whole display, but knew better than to comment. "What are your orders?"

"Tell the troopzzz," Ze said, voice forcibly calm, "To put down their weaponzzz."

"What?" She asked forcefully.

"It'zzz back to work," ze continued in their best authoritative tone. "Effective immediately."

"What happened to the war?" she demanded. Her body had been wound up tight in anticipation of a fight, and now she strained to hold herself back. "It... It was written!"

"And my orderzzzz have been zzzpoken," Beelzebub growled. Zir voice became larger and more menacing with every syllable.

Dagon shrunk down. "Yes, Lord Beelzebub..."

"Go tell zzzem. I have work to do." Ze turned on zir heel and strode off into zir own office without waiting for a reply.

Ze shut the door so quickly that the cloud of flies nearly lost a few members. After a couple deep breaths, Beelzebub crossed zir office and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"What'zzz going on," Ze demanded.

"Can't talk over the phone." There was a pause. "Let's meet."

"Let'zzz not," ze snapped. "I'm buzy and I don't have time for gamezzz."

"Can you really trust that nobody in Hell is listening?"

Ze glowered at the wall. "Where, then?"

* * *

Beelzebub had never liked being on Earth. It was too bright, too cold, too disorganized. In Hell you always knew what was what, but Humans were stupidly unpredictable.

Ze crossed zir legs and arms defensively as ze focused on the ducks in the pond. The birds seemed to expect something. Almost demanded it, actually. A glower sent them swimming off as fast as they could.

"Beelzebub!" Gabriel called. He spread his arms welcomingly. "Well don't you..." He looked zem up and down. "Clean up."

He couldn't bring himself to add a 'well', even if Beelzebub was quite proud of how ze had chosen zir clothing to look as modernly human as possible. Certainly, ze felt, zir attempt at copying casual pants and a shirt made zem blend in far more than his immaculately tailored suit.

"Zhut it and zzzit," ze snapped, more than a bit offended he didn't appreciate the effort it took to hide facial wounds. "What did z-" Ze paused and collected zirself, "What did  _She_  zay?"

Gabriel took a moment to sit and lace his fingers in his lap. "She said that the ineffable plan is... ineffable."

"And?" ze said, irritably. "What doez that mean for uz?"

"That it's back to business as usual, for the moment," he said. He turned indignant when he received an unimpressed look. "I don't like it any more than you do-"

"You can't pozzibly like thiz az little az I do." Ze slouched a bit deeper as ze hardened zir look. "I've had a knife with your name on it for zenturiez."

"And I was looking forward to bolting those doors shut for good," Gabriel said, with a particular emphasis on the word 'good'. "But Upstairs says that, at least for now, that is not the plan."

Ze blew a strand of greasy hair out of zir face. "What part of thiz couldn't have been zaid over the phone?"

"The part where I propose an arrangement. Since we're both dealing with traitors and, I assume," he said, with a motion toward the demon, "That neither of us is interested in them sticking around and corrupting others."

Beelzebub ran zir tongue along the inside of zir mouth. "I'm liztening."

"See, and you're going to love this," Gabriel said with a barely restrained chuckle. "Since our man was playing with fire, we could use fire as his punishment!"

He was genuinely disappointed when Beelzebub did not laugh as much as he had.

"I mean I want you to send up some hellfire."

"I got that. There'z not a lot to get," ze replied, mockingly irritable.

"There  _is_  a lot to get!" he insisted.

Beelzebub turned a bored eye back to the water and ran zir tongue along zir sharp teeth again.

"And in exchange, I'm sure there's something-"

"Holy water."

"What?"

"Enough to drown the znake." Ze looked over, "Hand delivered and no zzzplazhing."

"I'll send it down with my best, and I expect you would do the same. The last thing we need is that stuff spreading." The Angel shifted uncomfortably at the idea.

Ze clucked zir tongue. "Zame."

"So it's agreed, then?" Gabriel asked. He stuck a hand out to shake.

Beelzebub took another moment for emphasis before unwinding zir arms and taking his hand. "Agreed."

They pumped hands once and pulled them back. Gabriel pointedly cleaned his hand with a handkerchief while Beelzebub stuck zirs back where it'd been. They watched the pond for a while as the birdless water lapped at the shore.

"Did you ever think you'd work with an Angel? Again, I mean."

"Zeemz to be the trend," ze said, bitterly. "Ezpezially zince prophezy meanz nothing anymore."

"The Lord works in mysterious ways. It's not our place to question that," he stated, a sermon he'd repeated millions of times before and after the rebellion.

Somewhere, deep and dark and hidden, there was a tiny spark of doubt. And, as was zir job, Beelzebub read it loud and clear.

"There'z alwayz room for one more."

"Nobody is interested in sinking to your level," He replied, his veneer cracked bitterly.

Beelzebub smirked without turning zir head to him. "Juzt zaying." Zir voice dropped into a more serious tone, "Timez are changing. The propheziez are uzelezz, both zidez are angry. Not even at each other, nezzezarilly. Just angry."

Gabriel took a moment to breathe in and out through his nose. "Yes, that's a fair assessment."

"And if ineffable iz just going to ztay ineffable, then maybe we need to look for zomething elze to direct that anger to."

They sat in silence for a long time. People walked and drove, obliviously, all around them.

"I have to get back," Beelzebub finally said. "I'm zure it'z chaoz."

"On my side, too," He admitted with a frown. "Considering how... habitable everything still looks."

"Maybe too habitable."

There was another beat before Gabriel stood up and offered zem a hand. Beelzebub stood up without taking it.

"Well, for now I'll be in touch. Think it'd be best to take care of things at the same time."

"Juzt call, then," ze said, firmly.

He gave her a businesslike smile, "I'd prefer it."

Beelzebub gave him a once over and disappeared in a puff of smoke that reeked of sulfur. Gabriel followed soon after.

Neither one dwelled on how many more of these meetings it would take to eventually end everything, or what it'd look like when they finally got things in proper order. At the moment, there was too much work to do in the restored status-quo.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone had to know.

Hell was legion. They might not like or trust each other, they might even dis-corporate one another if things went south. But at the end of the day, they looked out for their own. If they didn't, who in the blessed world would?

Crowley had willingly, knowingly, callously murdered another demon (with Holy Water, of all things!). That would have been enough to warrant public punishment, of course, but that he'd done it to cover up ruining their one and only chance to get out of the damned pit...

They needed to let everyone see what happened to the demon who'd destroyed the only scrap of hope they'd ever had, and would ever have, because he felt that his motives were more important than the salvation of his brethren.

So they dug through the files to make sure they had every scrap of evidence. So they constructed a courtroom that could be viewed by every creature who dared to watch. So they performed the fairest trial anyone who'd done what Crowley had done could ever hope to receive.

They'd done everything right, and that should have finally gotten them some catharsis and justice as they watched him die the same way he'd used on Ligur.

Except that's never how it worked in Hell.

He didn't die. Crowley didn't even have the decency to wince.

After the bastard got redressed, he flashed them a big smile and primly walked out. The four that were left could only look, dumbfounded, at one another.

Hastur was the first to find his voice. "So that's it, then? He  _murders_  Ligur in cold blood and... and he just gets to walk off...?!"

Beelzebub sunk in zir seat. "Yez."

"You can't just let him-!"

"You forget yourzelf, Haztur," ze said, voice slow and dangerous. "This izn't about perzonal grudgezzzz." Ze spoke over the blustering that started. "Thiz haz been horrible for  _everyone_ , Haztur. We've lozt our purpoze, and that'z all mozt of uz had. Deteztable as Crowley iz, much as Ligur will be mizzed, the bezt thing we can do iz to return to normalzzzy while thingz are figured out. That meanz the zame routine we've been following for the lazt zix thouzand years. Tempting, paperwork, everything. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Dagon said.

Hastur grunted. He glared down the hall Crowley had left through.

"We have eternity to plot our next move. Let'z not ruzh it."

Hastur nodded a bit more enthusiastically. "Right. Back to work, then."

"Good. Az for you, Michael." Beelzebub jerked zir thumb towards the tub. "Don't you dare leave a drop." After a moment of thought, ze added, "And tell your bozz we need to meet."

Michael looked up from the refilling pitcher with her brows pulled down slightly. These demons had incredible nerve. The insults, the suggestion she didn't finish her tasks, the orders, and now acting like she was their personal messenger... Gabriel had told her to play nice, but this was reaching the limit. But orders were orders so she collected herself and asked, "Where and when?"

"He'll find me."

* * *

Nobody could know.

Heaven was a collective. Every angel worked towards the same glorious goals, and nobody stepped out of line for their own selfish needs. That's what made them angels, after all. The very idea that there might be rebellious angels, ones that disobeyed and yet stayed within God's grace, was... dangerous. It could spread like a virus, as the first fall had, and then where would they be?

Aziraphale was an anomaly, an already serious problem that could easily spiral into something far worse if these ideas were to circulate. The best thing to do was to quickly and discretely dispose of him.

That had been the plan, anyway. Very unfortunately, Gabriel was beginning to get used to them not working the way he intended.

Aziraphale smiled, cheerfully, from the fire. "Is there anything else, then?"

"What do we do?" Uriel asked, softly. Her eyes darted as she slid a bit more behind Gabriel.

"We could always just part ways, peacefully," Aziraphale suggested in a way that seemed disappointed to leave the pyre (which had to be the angels hearing things). "And I think, for the greater good, we should agree to keep it that way."

Gabriel refused to look at the other angels when he nodded stiffly. "Fine."

Aziraphale, who had clearly given up being an angel for... whatever he was now, stepped out of the flames. His shoes left scorch marks on the otherwise immaculate stone. "Lovely seeing you for the last time." He sauntered off towards the exit.

The demon who'd come to collect the fire frowned as he was passed. There was an odd feeling of familiarity in that walk, and the way he was smirked and winked at as he was passed. But the demon supposed that angels were always weird, certainly the ones who had now collected themselves enough to order him to collect the fire and get out were, so it was probably nothing to think too much about.

Gabriel moved to the window and, while he pretended to admire the view, rubbed his eyes. He hadn't had any sort of pain since the first war. It would have been safe to assume he wouldn't have been in any with this war being canceled, but that didn't seem to be the case at all.

This new affliction wasn't helped by how the other Archangels refused to give him any privacy and instead insisted he give them instructions. As if there was any plan to follow anymore, much less one where he already knew the steps! God wasn't talking to anyone now, much less him, and he couldn't just make this sort of thing up! That's not what an angel was supposed to be!

When a flustered Michael strode out of the elevator, Gabriel rushed across the room. "Michael!" He greeted, professionally managing to hide how much he appreciated changing the subject. "How was your ordeal in the basement?"

She motioned to the water with a tilt of her head. "It had no effect."

His mouth twitched. "None?"

Michael shook her head almost imperceptibly. "Beelzebub is insisting on meeting. They insisted," she said, with emphasis for the audacity, "That you would figure out where and when for yourself."

Finding demons put Gabriel back into his wheelhouse, and he brightened up considerably. "Of course I do. It's my job to know, isn't it?" He straightened his posture even more, "Now, demons are impatient, so the time is always 'now'. And as to where..."

He made a motion to follow as he headed towards the globe. "They're a cancerous lot. And Beelzebub, well,  _ze-"_

Michael hesitated, then made a guess and repeated the 'ze'.

Gabriel nodded. "Ze is the most cancerous of all of them. So we just look for... There."

He pointed to a scaly black growth that had formed on one of the landmasses. It pulsed, slightly, as if impatient to spread and infect more of the planet. Which, given this was the Prince of Hell they were talking about, it almost certainly did.

"Make sure everything is kept orderly and  _quiet_  while I'm gone. And get rid of that stain. The last thing we need is anyone seeing that."

"Of course," Michael agreed, hands clenched tightly around the pitcher.

With slight hesitation about touching the dirty thing, Gabriel tapped the growth and began his descent.


	3. Chapter 3

When the lightning dissipated, Gabriel's Oxfords sunk into snow. He'd been brought to a mountain range that he didn't know the name of, and he doubted ze did either. Not that it mattered, really. He was positive the only important thing was that there were no humans.

Gabriel scanned the surrounding peaks and, once he saw a familiar swatch of black, walked over. The ground rose up to meet his feet and just as quickly fell away once he'd moved past it.

Beelzebub lounged against the mountain top in a groove that seemed made for zem.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"You took zo long I waz able to find the bezt one." Ze patted the space next to zem. "Try it."

Gabriel took the invitation, and the mountain moved to cradle him properly. He exhaled a bit as he took in the comfort and view. "Now, I'm being radical here, but I propose we spend the first five minutes of this meeting just being silent."

"And I propoze that'z the bezt idea anyone haz had all day." Beelzebub shut zir eyes.

Gabriel followed zir lead, and the two of them listened to the wind as five minutes slipped into an hour. His headache slowly began to subside, and the hour threatened to slip into two. He couldn't bring himself to do that, of course, with so much work to be done. But, he figured, nothing said he had to conduct business with his eyes open.

"So, I heard the holy water didn't work." He received a grunt and added, "If it makes you feel better, the Hellfire failed as well."

Beelzebub's head lolled towards him. "Why the Heaven would that make me feel better?"

"Solidarity?"

"No."

"Well, we have to find something for it!" Gabriel insisted. "I have a feeling that this temporary arrangement is going to get a lot less temporary. I mean, you felt it too, right? Something is wrong." He could feel the raised eyebrow and waved his hand. "Besides the obvious."

Beelzebub gave an irritably thoughtful buzz ze tried to suppress. "Yez, I felt it."

"Any idea what it is? It's been eating at me."

"I think there are too many to count. And, zad az it iz, 'what are thoze two now?' izn't at the top of the lizt."

Gabriel unfurled one of his wings to block a particularly strong gust of wind. "It would be easier to understand a demon not being affected by holy water. But I don't know anything other than a demon that should have been able to withstand Hellfire. And I'm sure Aziraphale didn't fall."

"Bezt caze zenario they've become too human for our methodz to be effective. Worzt caze..."

"I don't want to think about the worst case."

Beelzebub grunted in agreement. "Zo we muzt honor the truze. For now at leazt. There are much more prezzing matterzzz anyway."

He sighed. "Agreed. Now what did-"

"You have looze featherz."

"Excuse me?"

Beelzebub sat up. "Lotz of them, and they're not zmoothed..."

"It's been a busy week!" He snapped. It was more of a whine than he'd hoped for.

"Takez more than a week to get that bad."

"It's been a very busy several months.” When ze shook zir head, he said, “Years. Besides, you're not really one to complain about grooming. When's the last time you even tried to brush your hair?"

Beelzebub swatted him on the shoulder. "Didn't prioritize a brush when I waz hurtling towardz Hell, odd az it zoundz. Now zit up and get them out."

Gabriel glared for a moment, but turned and let another wing unfurl.

"All of them."

"You're really pushing it."

"That'z my job. All of them." When four more reluctantly unfurled, and Beelzebub set to work.

Grooming wings was one of the few bits of quiet affection and respect that demons allowed themselves. They exploited that to the point that even the lowliest, grimiest demon had immaculately cared for wings. Beelzebub, who secured alliances with it on a near daily basis, had become quite the expert.

Gabriel didn't stand a chance as the loose feathers were cleared and the rest were gently smoothed into place. His first wing drooped, appreciatively, as ze finished and moved onto the next one.

"Do you have any orderz yet?"

The 'no' Gabriel admitted got lost in the wind. "We have faith that they will come. But for right now...”

"I don't have any either, if it makez you feel better."

"Not even a little, but... solidarity."

"Zolidarity." The second wing drooped and Beelzebub moved onto the next. "It'z a good thing the war didn't happen. You couldn't have flown up againzt me." After there was no answer, ze asked, "Iz all of Heaven like thiz?"

"Not Michael," he admitted. "But she had been talking about 'back channels' so I assume she's been getting herself groomed as well."

"Did she zay who her contact waz?"

"No. But her wings have never looked unkempt so whoever it is has seen an awful lot of her.”

Beelzebub buzzed softly. "Thiz problem may be a lot more widezpread than we thought."

"I'm not so sure it's a problem anymore. I mean, here we are." A small sound of relief escaped him as a particularly pesky feather was removed. "You're very good at this."

"You should be. I learned it from you after all."

"I'm just out of practice," he insisted. "It's been thousands of years since I groomed anyone."

"What? Why?"

"We banned grooming." He paused, and then clarified, "Inter-angel grooming, I mean. Angels are expected to keep themselves-"

He trailed off as Beelzebub moved so he could see zir horrified, and slightly disgusted, face.

Gabriel turned his head away indignantly. "You lot were using it for tempting! And fraternizing! It was supposed to be an innocent thing, but then it was tainted by the rebellion. It needed to be stopped for the greater good of-"

"I don't know if you know what the greater good really iz."

"I AM the greater good."

"Oh of courze, of courze.” Beelzebub placed zir hands in zir lap. “I wouldn't want to tempt someone az holy az you with my zinful hands."

Immediately, the three un-groomed wings began to itch impatiently. Gabriel turned and raised a lecturing finger.

"Zomething wrong, greater good?" Beelzebub smiled, innocently. The fly on zir head fluttered its wings. "A bit lopzided, maybe?"

He glared at the demon for a long time, then turned and grumbled, "Just shut up and finish.”

Gabriel hadn't been wrong about what they were doing. He almost always had at least a vague idea of the right answer. Beelzebub had absolutely used grooming in zir recruitment tactics, as had many of those who now sat at the top of Hell's hierarchy. But it was only one of a wide range of tactics, used in combinations tailor-fit to the millions of needs of just as many demons. In truth, grooming was only really effective when paired with answering questions, or offering a relief from their boredom.

But, of course, he only remembered (and, therefore, banned) what ze had tried on him.

"Should I be honored you're letting me do thiz again?" Ze asked.

"If you like."

Ze smoothed a particularly stubborn tangle of feathers. "She izn't talking, iz She?"

It took him a long time, enough to finish one wing and start on the next, before he managed, "No."

"He'zzz not either," Beelzebub admitted, far more quickly. "Ever zinze.... well, He'z juzt not talking."

After nearly as long as it took to move onto the last wing, he asked, softly, "What are you going to do now?"

"For now?" Ze plucked a loose feather and twirled it in zir fingers. Gradually, it lost its angelic sheen and Beelzebub let the wind carry it away. "I'm doing the only thing I can do. Grooming. For zolidarity."

Gabriel nodded. “Solidarity.”

Soon as ze was finished, they turned and Gabriel began to return the favor. His fingers, he found to his embarrassment and Beelzebub's discomfort, were quite desperately out of practice. He tugged at feathers that weren't actually loose and tried to straighten ones which had been shed.

Beelzebub took it in stride. They both knew that soon enough he'd be back to form. And, just like a proper temptation, when it all happened it would be his idea.


	4. Chapter 4

Negotiations had gone on through the night, in the lazy sort of way that included lengthy breaks to stargaze between points. Both had irritably admitted, to themselves and each other, that they didn't have the authority to make such sweeping changes on their own. And, besides that, neither had brought enough paper to write a contract. Neither was terribly disappointed in that, though they pretended to be.

The sky began to change, a threat that the sun would peek into view any minute. Gabriel looked over when Beelzebub gave a withering sigh.

“I have more important thingz to do.” And then ze was gone.

Gabriel hadn't expected anything else, and truth be told he had a great deal of work waiting for him as well. He stood up and prepared to head back to Heaven.

But then he paused and gave his wings a test flap.

* * *

Meetings in Hell were soul-crushingly dull by design. Demons were given too much time to present a single idea so every detail was dragged out. The presentations were monotonous due to a severe lack of creativity and tools available to demons to illustrate their points. And, most importantly, they were scheduled back to back for hours to weeks on end. Beelzebub had become convinced it was implemented this way to punish the Dukes and Lords specifically. It wouldn't do to let their ranks make Hell a slightly less agonizing experience.

A new, but just as tedious, aspect had been added since the failed apocalypse: the search for the ineffable plan. Or, at least, the search for any evidence that the opposition had figured it out. The collective answer that day, as it had been for weeks, was “nothing” and “no”.

After the last of the presentations had ended, and the lower-ranking demons returned to their drudgery, came the post-meeting meeting. Beelzebub and the other high-ranking demons discussed what had been said, and who's underlings would be saddled with which tasks for the next round of presentations.

Normally, this second meeting was even more downbeat than the first. But now, without Ligur around to have a claim on his underlings, the Dukes fought over how to distribute them. It had quickly devolved into airing personal slights, and then into an all-out war. Hastur had initially, and still occasionally in flashes, seemed disgusted at how ready the others were to pick over Ligur's proverbial corpse. But, well, one didn't become and remain a Duke by passing up golden opportunities. If anything, he might have used his disgust to become the most vicious.

After an hour of this, Dagon tossed her pen down onto her notepad. “This is the most pointless meeting we've ever had,” she muttered to Beelzebub. “And that's saying a lot.”

“At leazt which demon will do what iz done,” Beelzebub replied, dully, as ze watched one of the Dukes get slammed into a wall. “I don't have to be checked in for who'z wing getz a feather.”

Dagon leaned in a bit. “Speaking of wings, I saw how much you had to have undone this morning.” She smirked, and nudged at Beelzebub as much as she dared. “Who did you let butcher you like that?”

Beelzebub paused, raised zir hand to block zir mouth from the Dukes, and mouthed 'Gabriel'.

Dagon gasped, “No...!"

Beelzebub buzzed, amusedly. "Mhm."

"He's that bad? How?”

“Even worze than it looks. I had to talk him through not pulling on every zingle feather.”

“So does he just always get groomed and never...?”

“They don't groom each other.” Beelzebub nodded when Dagon's jaw dropped. “Outlawed becauze it'z 'too tempting'.”

“Interesting...” She grabbed her pen and made a note of it. “That's very, very interesting.”

“All exzept Michael, I guezz. Which, zpeaking of. I want the name of her contact. And if she takez one more ztep in Hell that I have not perzonally zigned off on, she'z never walking anywhere again.”

“I'll see to it personally,” Dagon smirked. “So, this cooperation thing is a go, then?”

“Onze we put it in writing. More of a non-interferanze clauze, really. I have to bring thiz to the Dark Counzil, but there's a pozzibility of sharing rezourzes and manpower.”

“Quite the deal.”

“Whatever getz thingz figured out fazter.”

“I get that but... sharing that much? I'm not sure they'll go for it. And... grooming the opposition...”

“I know, but-” Beelzebub ducked under a chair that flew in zir direction. “The mozt important thing iz that he'z my deztined opponent. If I can make him hezitate, even for a zecond... Friendz cloze and enemiez clozer, right?”

“How are you supposed to fly up against him if you let him keep doing that to your wings?” She asked. “A few more sessions and he's going to pluck you bald. And then what?”

“He won't do that,” ze said. It came out more confident and comfortable than ze'd expected it to.

“He's an _angel_ ,” Dagon said, forcefully. “They're sneaky bastards, and he's the worst of all of them.”

“I know what I'm doing,” Beelzebub insisted, irritably. "You act like thiz iz my first temptation."

“I suppose... just don't get sucked in, alright? They have a tendency to do that.” Her voice went softer, “I don't want to see you get hurt.”

“You zound human.”

Dagon scoffed and muttered, “For strategic reasons.”

Beelzebub looked her in the eyes, face serious and as soft as anyone in Hell would dare. “I'll be fine, I promize. Just keep thiz between uz.” Ze looked at the other demons who were still locked in their war. “Think they'd notize if we juzt left?”

“No.”

Beelzebub announced “meeting dismissed” in a voice too soft to be heard over the brawl, and the two Lords left the room.

* * *

When an angel unfurled their wings, it set off a chiming notification to Heaven. This was supposed to be noted, but was almost always ignored since it almost always meant maintenance. Taking flight set off a slightly louder bell that was written down, as there would need to be paperwork. An angel flying erratically, too quickly, or for too long, set off their own warning bells.

Over the course of this 'meeting', Gabriel had set off all of them.

The Archangels exchanged a worried, though not necessarily surprised, look. Michael nodded, drew her sword out of thin air, and descended.

She touched down in a defensive stance. The uneven footing was of no matter to her, as the ground moved to be where her feet expected it. What nearly threw her stance off completely, though, was that the mountains around her were quiet and intact.

Michael hadn't paid much attention to Beelzebub during the Great War, seeing as Lucifer was her assignment and more than enough to keep her occupied. But she remembered how Gabriel had looked after. And, as Ligur had pointed out, Beelzebub had kept an iron grip on their... zir rank for a reason.

She tragically wasn't sure what Beelzebub was capable of. But, she was positive, a mere mountain on Earth shouldn't have been left unscathed. There wasn't even smoke in the air, and that made it even scarier. Had she been too late?

No, evidently, as Gabriel swirled past a mountaintop in a dive that was neither injured nor distressed. He wasn't being pursued... she'd dare say he was doing it for fun.

Michael would have rubbed her eyes, but she didn't want to give Gabriel the honor of ruining her meticulously-applied makeup. She instead unfurled her wings and took off after him.

“Gabriel!”

He pulled up fast with a look of shock but not a hint of apology. Then he moved his sleeve to look at his watch, shook his wrist and tapped at the face plate.

“It must be broken," he said. "It still says I have five minutes.”

“We thought you were in danger! Instead, you're out here playing-”

“Training,” Gabriel said, firmly. “I haven't worked on my evasive flying techniques in a long time, and this is the best place to do that without arousing suspicion.”

Michael knew Gabriel well enough not to push past that. She sheathed her sword more aggressively than necessary, though. Not that he noticed. “Of course. How did the negotiation go?”

“We have to draft paperwork, but I think it went very well. We've agreed to share information, maybe resources if necessary. At least as far as figuring out the ineffable plan is concerned.” He straightened his coat as he received a hard stare. “I thought you'd be happy. What with your 'back channels'.”

Michael pulled a taunt smile. Her back channel was a pile of goo somewhere on Earth, but she couldn't say that. “Who's idea was this?”

“We both decided."

“Are you positive about that?”

Gabriel's smile fell in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Michael came in close and lowered her voice. You never knew when you were being watched. “Demons are cunning, they're manipulative. They'll convince you that things are you idea, that's how they converted millions of us."

“I'm not going to fall,” Gabriel told her with a laughing smile that didn't reach his eyes. “I've got everything under control.”

“Of course,” Michael agreed after a beat that Gabriel ether didn't acknowledge or pick up on. “Now let's get back before the others start coming down.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off Angelwormwood's wonderful theory that Beelzebub was originally the angel Seraphiel. 
> 
> https://angelwormwood.tumblr.com/post/185960297173/youre-the-expert-on-all-things-angel-yes-which

_Seraphiel stood at her post outside of the Metatron's gate silently. Her sword was at the ready, as it had been for... well, technically there weren't days yet. That sort of thing was still in development. But it would have been days at a time, were 'days' or 'time' around at the moment._

_It wasn't quiet, of course. Heaven was constantly full of music. Even if you weren't near a choir, which you almost always were, the harmonies would echo around the perfect acoustics that the celestial realm provided._

_She listened to the ups and downs of the latest song. The angels sang perfectly, because that's just what they did, but there were always places to improve the next time she taught. She could give the baritones some more to do, for example, or she could find a new aspect of the fledgling universe to praise. They hadn't slotted anything about the Milky Way into the rotation in a long time, maybe she could-_

“ _This is your best song yet!”_

_The one thing Seraphiel never had to wonder was whether the Archangel Gabriel would like it. He always loved it._

_Gabriel came up to her, his arms wide and his smile even wider. “You've really outdone yourself this time.”_

“ _That's kind of you,” she said. Her sword didn't waver, not that it deterred Gabriel at all._

“ _It was even better the last time I heard it, when you were singing too.”_

“ _You can tell my voice from millions of others?”_

“ _Every time!” he insisted, brightly._

_Seraphiel gave him an unimpressed look which belied her amusement more than she would have liked. “Are you just trying to flatter me to get to Her faster? Because it doesn't work.”_

“ _An Archangel wouldn't do something like that.” It was said with the same heartfelt sincerity he used for everything else._

“ _Michael does. Uriel does. Lucifer always does.”_

“ _I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding,” Gabriel told her, honestly troubled (if only for a moment) about the idea an angel might try and cheat the system._

_Sephariel weighed how much good more discussion would do, and then said, “It must be.” She adjusted her stance just a bit. “So, if you aren't here to get past me, what are you here for?”_

“ _To tell you how much I loved the song! And I thought that maybe I should thank you for such good music to hang stars to.” He shifted his weight, awkwardly, and his hands twitched. “Some grooming, maybe?”_

_She looked him up and down, then shifted her wings out for better reach. “I could do with some grooming.”_

_He set to work with hands that were precise and gentle, as was expected of his rank. And, as she stood guard against threats that would never come, Seraphiel began to sing along with the celestial harmonies._

_As the song blended into the next, Seraphiel sheathed her sword to groom him in return. And as he moved his wings to guide her unpracticed hands, Gabriel began to sing along as well._

_If someone hadn't known better, they might have thought the two were singing to one another. But, of course, an Angel would never do something like that._

* * *

Gabriel had invented jogging. Or, rather, he'd invented the concept of jogging as an exercise. He'd filed it as a miracle due to the increase of endorphins making a human more reluctant to do evil. But, really, he just wanted to be able to do it in the park without being stared at. It was always inconvenient when humans stared.

He'd taken to jogging on a daily basis. It helped to clear his head, and kept the body he was using in fighting shape which was vital. You never knew when the ineffable plan was going to kick in.

The air in the park that day was crisp and easy to breathe. It had been that way since the event everyone agreed hadn't happened had happened. And it was peaceful, in the sort of way that people who weren't paying attention at all considered to be peaceful. That was fine by him. It was much easier to jog at the pace he wanted to go if everyone around him was calm.

He'd been jogging for nearly a half hour when he felt a bit of heat and a rumble from deep down. It was small, but steadily it was growing larger and closer. He stopped, glanced around, and said "Not here, there are too many humans. I'll show you a good spot."

It stopped growing and, as he jogged down a different path, and the rumble followed along. When they passed a food kiosk, an image of a iced coffee popped into his mind.

"Really?"

The rumbling came as close as a demon could to puppy eyes. Though, of course, these were the sorts of puppies they grew in Hell. Those ones considered ripping someone's throat out to be a proper hello.

Still, Gabriel stopped. "Fine, fine. I'll get you one." He headed over the vender, flashed a winning smile, and said, "One ice and coffee."

The barista hesitated. "You want anything in it?"

Gabriel froze a moment. "Yes."

The barista waited another moment before offering, "How about mocha? It's chocolate. Very popular."

There was an appreciative rumble, so Gabriel nodded and beamed. "Yes, I'll take that."

The bartista returned the sort of smile only a retail worker could manage and set to work. It must be an American thing, they figured. And theyd heard from their bartender friends that American customers tipped insanely well, which also explained why the man handed over a bill far too large for the cost of the drink and walked away without any concern for change.

Gabriel carried the drink as securely as he could, considering he wanted to keep it away from him as much as possible. He ducked into a small clearing shielded from view by a line of trees.

"You can come up here."

He took a moment to change into his favorite suit as the rumbling and heat grew stronger. Gabriel pointedly stepped back to avoid the flames as Beelzebub emerged.

Ze irritably brushed off the rubble and took zir coffee as the ground began to heal itself. "I didn't think I waz zetting you up for dizazter getting thiz.” Beelzebub took a long sip.

"I don't go for things like that," he said with a disapproving smile.

"Your lozz." Ze snapped zir fingers to change from uniform to casual human clothes before they started to walk back to the path. "Anyway, how'z it going?" He didn't have a chance to reply when ze said, "Becauze the Dark Counzel are ztubborn az Heaven and I'm tired of it."

"Ok so it's not just us," Gabriel said in relief. "Sandalphon is being ridiculous about this.”

They walked along and ranted to one another about points that were no different from the ones they normally ranted about. But it felt better to get it out with someone else who dealt with it.

There was a single difference that day. They passed a concert in the park, and Gabriel offhandedly asked, “Do you sing, anymore?”

Beelzebub ignored him, as he expected zem to, and he didn't bring it up again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“We need to find a new plaze to meet,” Beelzebub muttered. Ze slouched so deeply into the booth that zir knees practically reached to Gabriel's bench.

He continued to look over paperwork, and nudged his untouched coffee further to the side so that he could see two pages at once. “And why's that?”

“Humanzzz are conztantly ztaring at me when I come up. I can't ztand it.” Ze'd already been self-conscious enough to hide zir rotting flesh, change out of zir uniform, and fix up zir eyebrows. But it never felt like enough.

“It's because you smell,” he said, lightly.

“Exc-uze me?” Beelzebub growled.

Gabriel made a quick note on one of the forms rather than look over. “Like a corpse rolled in garbage.”

Beelzebub didn't care to admit that was basically what ze was, so ze just glowered and slouched even deeper. “You could have zaid something.”

“I just did.”

“I mean before now. We've been doing buzinezz on and off like thiz for millenia and it'z only coming up _now_?”

“You've been like this so long, I'd assumed it was intentional.” He finally glanced up from his papers. “If you wanted help changing it, we could always zip over to a bath after-”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“Very much. And humans would notice you an awful lot less.” He smiled, welcomingly.

Beelzebub glared down at the menu stand they'd pushed to the far side of the table and sighed heavily. Ze finally murmured, “I'm not saying no.”

Gabriel brightened up. “Wonderful. We'll finish our discussion there, then.”

He gathered the contract into his briefcase, put down far more money than his untouched cup of coffee and zir week-old piece of apple pie were worth. They walked out of the diner, around to the back, and then teleported off.

 

* * *

_Lucifer was beautiful. To varying degrees all angels were, but Lucifer had found a way to make his beauty intimidating and difficult to look at. The Archangels would meet his eyes, sometimes defiantly, but all the others would suddenly find their feet incredibly interesting._

_The exception to that, very pointedly and furiously, was Seraphiel._

“ _Good morning, Seraphiel!” Lucifer greeted, arms wide and welcoming._

_She stared him straight in the eyes and said, “Come back when you have an appointment.”_

“ _How can you be so sure I don't have one?”_

“ _You never have one.” She didn't even allow herself to blink, though her eyes twitched with strain. “There are rules, even for you.”_

“ _I know, I know.” He leaned against the gate and ignored the sword that was now much closer to him. “Really, I just wanted to get a peek. at what they're growing in there. It's called a 'tree'. Do you want to see it?”_

“ _It's not my place.”_

“ _That's not what I asked,” he said with a small, amused smile. “I asked do you want to?” When she didn't answer, he went on, “I mean, I'm sure you could say that's not your place, but has She told you that it's not?”_

_Seraphiel continued to stand silently, but her eyes weren't quite as angry. There was a twinge in them, of fear and sadness, and Lucifer's smile changed to shock._

“ _She doesn't talk to you?”_

“ _If She had orders for me,” Seraphiel said, in a deliberate tone she'd repeated millions of times over, “She would speak to me.”_

“ _I'm not even talking about orders, here!” Lucifer insisted. “Just a friendly hello once and a while to the Angel who's constantly singing her praises and standing outside her front door. Just seems like the neighborly thing to do, doesn't it?”_

_And there, for a fraction of a moment, Seraphiel looked away._

_He had her._

_This whole thing had a shot._

_Lucifer straightened up and patted her shoulder as he walked away. “I'll go make an appointment, alright? See you next time.”_

_Only once he was out of sight did Seraphiel rub her eyes. They were in desperate pain, but far worse was how her mind raced as it always did after talking to Lucifer. It was scary and... More than a bit exciting which was even scarier._

_But she'd held her ground, and that was all that mattered. She just_ _had to keep doing that forever, and how hard could that be?_

* * *

“Thiz waz a bad idea,” Beelzebub said, voice commanding and definitely not wavering nervously. “Let'z juzt find a new diner.”

“No, no. Come on,” Gabriel said. “There's nobody here, you'll be fine.”

“You'll be there,” ze pointed out.

“Can I really trust you to bathe properly on your own?”

Ze didn't reply, just grudgingly motioned to which bath looked the least terrible.

“Nice choice," he beamed. "Let's do this quick, hm?”

Ze nodded and slunk behind him as he paid the admission fee, collected their towels and robes, and headed back to the changing area. The room was empty, just as he'd said it would be. To be expected of an angel.

Gabriel seemed to find the laminated sign of instructions fascinating as he didn't so much as glance from it until Beelzebub was wrapped up in zir towel.

“I'm ready,” Ze said.

“Perfect! Alright, the instructions state we head to this shower area, so you just pick a seat and I'll get to work.”

The second Beelzebub had sat down, there was a scrub brush loaded with scented soap on zir back. The water run off was black and oily, and Beelzebub had to brace as Gabriel scrubbed to get it all off.

“That'z my _zkin_ ,” ze hissed through clenched teeth. “It'z not zuppozed to come off.”

“Well, if you would bathe more than once a century, this wouldn't be so difficult,” he replied.

Beelzebub glowered and grunted, but let him continue to scrub. Gabriel tried to distract zir by talking about the contracts, but oddly it did nothing to help.

He didn't even take a breath in his endless monologue as he rinsed zem off and started on the next round of washing. It would take three passes on the body, and four on the hair, before Gabriel was satisfied enough to do one final rinse.

Ze pulled zir soaked hair out of zir face. “Iz that all?”

“Well, now you go sit in the water over there. I'll join you after I shower.”

“Why would I want to zit in water after I juzt had to deal with all that water?”

“No clue, but those are the instructions.” He wrapped zir hair up in a towel to keep it out of zir face.

“Humanz are weird.”

“Yes, but we're trying to blend in.”

Beelzebub rolled zir eyes and left him to go slip into the pool. And... It was nice. Just, maybe a little cold, but nothing ze couldn't fix.

Eventually, long after ze had lost track of the time, Gabriel asked “Feels nice?”

“Very. Come on in.”

“Uh, no.”

Beelzebub glanced up at him. “We're trying to blend in, right?”

“The water is literally boiling.”

“Zo? It'z zupposed to be hot.”

“I don't think it's supposed to be heated with Hellfire.”

“Oh... oopz.” Ze began to lower the heat, but he waved it off.

“No, don't worry about it. I'll just sit here and keep the paperwork dry.”

“Alright.” Beelzebub shut zir eyes, only to snap them open again. “You could have blezzed that water at any time.”

Gabriel paused a moment. His hands tentatively straightened the paperwork. “Yes, I suppose I could have.”

Beelzebub turned around and gave him a fiercely confused look. “Why didn't you?” When he didn't answer, ze asked softly, “Why aren't you doing that now?”

“I...”

He frowned. There had to be a good reason why he hadn't. This was his eternal, destined enemy after all, and it wasn't like him to miss an opportunity to perform good. And why wasn't he doing it now that it'd been pointed out? Why did even the thought put a pit in his stomach... ah!

“Because then I'd have to do all this paperwork by myself.”

Beelzebub ran zir tongue over zir teeth, then nodded. “Makez zenze.” Ze turned around and went back to relaxing. “Now what are your changez?”

* * *

Beelzebub was given wide berth in the halls of Hell. Ze always was, of course, but this was less out of respect and fear and more out of confusion.

Ze was still a rotting corpse, but the smell was practically gone. The boils were cleaned, and zir hair was so light that it almost floated with every step. Even the flies seemed to be more orderly.

The only one brave enough to approach was Dagon, who grabbed Beelzebub by the arm and dragged zem into an empty room. “What did you do?”

“It waz juzt a bath,” Beelzebub said, dismissively. “And I like how my hair lookz.”

“A bath, of all things?” She hissed fiercely. “When I said don't get sucked in, this was exactly the sort of thing I was talking about.”

“Thiz iz peak demonic temptation. If I don't look like I'm getting cloze, it won't work. Now ztop freaking out about thiz, I told you it waz all under control.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Well, we'd best hurry. Meeting's about to start.”

“Wouldn't want to mizz a zecond.”

Dagon followed behind her. She internally debated, and dismissed, saying that she'd figured out the source (and that said source was too dead to be punished for it). She was, instead, starting to think that maybe a quick phone call would be the best thing for everyone.

 


	7. Chapter 7

God was omnipotent, and had seen everything that had ever been and ever would be. Angels were not. They had massive blind spots, and weaknesses that were just as big.

Michael had made it her job to at least know of all of them, and to do what (sometimes exceedingly little) she could to mitigate it. Likewise, and perhaps more importantly, she'd learned very early on how to exploit them.

For example, the Earth surveillance team had never managed to figure out how to see through walls. They would watch the door an angel went in and look for a window to see through. If nothing was available, they would just sit and stare at the door until the angel came back into view. It never even occurred to the team to watch for other doors, or to check if anything had gone in before the angel had arrived.

Between that, and no the complete lack of monitoring in the stairwells, it almost sucked the fun out of sneaking around to work with demons.

Ligur had slunk around, pulled up his collar, and lowered his voice. He and the chameleon constantly darted their eyes around in full respect of how dangerous this whole thing was.

But Dagon...

Dagon didn't slink anywhere. She didn't even walk, really. She strode in an undulating sort of way that seemed to proudly declare her to be a literal fish out of water. And she always wore the slightest self-satisfied smirk that dared anyone not to notice her.

Michael had certainly noticed, especially how she'd changed into a flannel with jeans and yet somehow exuded that she was a Lord of Hell and therefore demanded respect. She was in no place to comment, of course, as she personally favored a particularly billowy high-low tunic. But, still, it would have been nice for Dagon to at least hunch a little. Or wear something a little less... Michael chose to stop wondering about that.

"I assume you know why I wanted to meet," Dagon said. She sat down and leaned back in her chair. Her arms crossed as if Michael were the one wasting her time.

"I can only guess," Michael, who'd been minutes from calling Dagon herself, began lightly. This put her in a much better position, and she smugly poured tea for both of them. "That this is about all the meetings?"

Dagon tilted her head, a clear statement that she understood the game and it was to stop. "I'm sure you've noticed changes in him."

Michael paused and nodded curtly. "I have."

"Beelzebub has changed, too. They're getting way too close," Dagon lowered her voice. "If we don't stop it now, we might not be able to stop it at all. And we can't have some of the strongest warriors unable to fight when the War finally comes."

"Are we sure the War is coming?"

"What kind of stupid idea is that?" Dagon asked incredulously.

"It's not," Michael insisted. "Unless your side has unearthed something, we haven't had any evidence that there's a new starting point planned, there's no new prophesy being written now that the last one was disproved, and-"

"The War is coming," Dagon interrupted, furiously.

Michael's voice lowered to a hiss. Just because they couldn't see didn't necessarily mean they couldn't hear. "How can you be so sure?"

Because there was nothing left to hope for if it wasn't. But Dagon couldn't say that to herself, much less an angel. "I just know."

Michael sipped her tea for a long while, then put the cup down with a sigh and a gentle click. "What do you propose?"

* * *

_It'd all started innocently, as most things do. Seraphiel asked if other angels had heard from God and, when they said 'no', she asked 'why is that, do you think?'. And some would answer that She just had nothing to say to them, some would say it was impertinent to ask such ridiculous things, but others... Others would want to know why, too._

_As the questions grew in number and complexity, they moved to speaking in whispers during grooming sessions. It was considered acceptable to socialize while caring for wings, and therefore wasn't suspicious. Inevitably the less curious caught on, and then the discussions had to move further underground. And as they moved down, as the number of wondering angels grew, the questions became louder and angrier._

_And still, God said nothing._

_The only one who seemed to have any answers, even if those answers were simply more questions, was Lucifer. Every day, were there days yet at least, more angry, scared, and curious angels flocked to his side._

" _Seraphiel!"_

_Of course, she always hoped for one more._

_She lowered her sword just a bit. "Gabriel, it's been a while." Her smile turned more sympathetic. "You look frazzled."_

" _There's been... there's been a lot," He admitted. His wings gratefully moved into position as she began to straighten his ruffled feathers back into place. "Have you heard about all this questioning?"_

" _I have," she said._

" _At first I'd thought they were wondering how to better serve Her, but then I found out... that they're questioning Her orders. Some of them are demanding She answer them, and suggesting that She might not have the greater good in mind. I-" His voice cracked and lowered to a whisper, "I heard someone suggest that maybe angels should be serving themselves instead."_

" _That is a lot," Seraphiel agreed. "Seems like you've been giving it a lot of thought."_

" _It's hard not to," he said, relieved. "I'm not sure if they're even angels anymore..."_

_Her hands hesitated, and only started up again when his wing ducked down to get her fingers back in place. "What do you mean?"_

" _Angels are made to serve Her, the greatest good that has ever been and ever will be! Angels aren't made to demand that she speak to them, or anything else so, so... blasphemous!" He tilted his head up in exasperation. "I just don't know what's going on anymore."_

_She swallowed her sigh. "That must be scary."_

" _It is..." He looked back and gave her the largest smile he could bring himself to make. "I'm so glad you understand. This has been awful."_

" _I do," she said. "I don't think it's going to stop, though."_

_He turned around to begin her wings. "I don't think so either... But I'm glad you're still the same. Not sure what Heaven would be like without you at the gates."_

_Seraphiel froze up._

" _What's wrong?" Gabriel asked worriedly._

" _I just... I never thought about not being at the gates before."_

" _Oh... oh, no! I didn't mean to imply that you would..." He stopped. He probably shouldn't speak about what he'd heard the consequences might be. It'd be horrible to scare anyone, but especially such a wonderfully pious angel. "Forget I said it, alright?"_

" _Right, of course."_

_Once again her mind began to swirl with ideas. Though, sadly, wondering if Gabriel would join the growing rebellion was no longer one of them._

* * *

"Come on."

"No."

"Do it."

"No, absolutely not!"

"You know you want to."

"I've never wanted to do anything less in my entire existence."

"Now we both know that'z a lie."

Gabriel kept his incredulously-screwed face turned away the demon. "Even so, that's disgusting and only a demon would-"

"Maybe we know zomething you don't." Beelzebub's mouth twisted into a smirk. "You'll never know unlezz you try, right?"

Gabriel shook his head, and very deliberately said, "If I do this, you're going to do something for me."

"What?"

"I'll tell you after. Yes or no?"

Beelzebub glared as ze chewed it over, and finally waved zir hand. "Fine. Deal."

Gabriel took a deep, steadying breath, closed his eyes, and stuck out his tongue.

He winced as an ice cream cone was brushed against it, and shuddered a bit when he brought his tongue back into his mouth and swallowed.

"There. Good, wazn't it?"

"It... could have been worse." He ignored zir snickering as he tried to recover from the intense experience that was vanilla ice cream. "Anyway, I know you'll enjoy going jogging with me tomorrow."

"What?" Beelzebub practically spat the ice cream out. "That'z not equal to thiz!"

"You might like it."

"I won't."

"You never know unless you try."

From up above them, they were being watched as they had been since they touched down and hurried through their paperwork. On some level they were aware of that, but it was too far down to do any good.


	8. Chapter 8

Angel auras were massive. They had a sight and smell to them that, did one know what to look for, could be found from a country or two over. Gabriel and Beelzebub were the worst about it, and Crowley insisted (though Aziraphale didn't necessarily believe him) that he could tell if they were anywhere at all on Earth.

Crowley's head snapped up. He sniffed the air and once again announced. "They're back."

Aziraphale placed their cocktails down on the small table between their deck chairs. "That's the third time this week. Where are they this time?"

"Chicago." Crowley scowled, "They must be looking for something."

“Well, let's hope they finally find it and go home.”

Crowley scowled, “That's all you're going to say?”

“So far,” Aziraphale began as he took his seat, “They've been in Toronto, New York, Tokyo, and the Himalayas.”

“And London.”

“And London. Meanwhile, we have been at a lovely beach-side hotel in Curacao that we're supposed to be enjoying. Gabriel is Gabriel, but he's not _that_ bad at his job.” He took a pointed sip. “So let's stop focusing on them and enjoy our much-deserved holiday.”

“What if they're after the Antichrist?”

“Then they would have stopped in Tadfield at least once, wouldn't they? Or more than once?” Aziraphale reached over and took Crowley's hand. “Whatever they're looking for has nothing to do with us, or Adam, or anything we have to be concerned about right now. Can we please just relax?”

Crowley put his other hand over Aziraphale's and, though it killed him, said, “Just give me a minute.”

The  angel frowned as disapprovingly as he could. “This is my honeymoon, Crowley. And, come Hell OR Heaven, I intend to-”

When Crowley disappeared, Aziraphale huffed and sat more firmly in his deck chair. He decided that, if Crowley thought he was coming back to his cocktail _or_ the ceviche they'd ordered, he was sorely mistaken.

* * *

Gabriel beamed at the route he'd chosen. There was a nice breeze off the lake dotted picturesquely with sail boats. There were people around, but nowhere near enough that they'd need to dodge anyone. It was set to be one of the best jogs he'd had, at least in a long while.

Such a shame Beelzebub chose to look like three days rain, even though he'd had a beautiful track suit made for zem with a lovingly-stitched fly on the breast.

"It's not that bad," he said.

"It's worze."

“Well, you already agreed, so let's get going.”

Crowley touched down, and immediately had to duck behind a car. He thought he heard a 'did you feel that?', but neither broke stride to investigate.

He peeked out, eyes narrowed as he tried to sort out what was happening. And, failing that, if he was in fact looking at the rival leaders in near-identical outfits jogging in broad daylight... At least that much was correct, but it didn't make him feel any better. All it did was fill him with "why's'.

Why had they been city hopping, why were they acting so casually, why were they on Earth at all? And why, oh why, did it have to be jogging? His relationship with a human pelvis was questionable on the best of days, he definitely couldn't handle a sustained run...

Crowley's eyes drifted over to a line of rental bikes, which he immediately dismissed as stupid. He really should head back, Aziraphale was probably right and this was totally innocent...

But a quick bike ride, just to be sure, wasn't going to hurt him.

* * *

Michael couldn't remember the last time she'd handled a paper file. Heaven had taken a hard turn into digital decades ago and never looked back. At least Dagon kept shockingly neat and detailed notes which kept the hassle to a minimum.

Dagon flipped through the pictures from the Earth surveillance team. She frowned at a one, though it was hardly the only one, of a genuine smile on Beelzebub.

“I didn't think it was this far along," Dagon muttered. "I mean, I didn't rule it out but..."

“Certainly seems to be, based on these logs,” Michael agreed. “And they're off again today.” She flipped through and passed over a picture of Gabriel proudly miracling the tracksuit onto Beelzebub. “There's the definite possibility that we're already too late, you understand.”

“I do. Maybe we need to be handling these meetings from now on.”

Michael quite liked the idea, but none the less hesitated. “Would your boss go for that?”

“He only talks to Beelzebub, and he's not even talking to zem anymore. I don't know how much it matters, anyway.”

“It always matters,” Michael insisted.

Dagon held up two pictures to examine them. “I forgot how desperate angels were for instructions.”

“You say that like you aren't looking for the Ineffable Plan just like we are.”

“It's more a matter of hedging our bets than seeking guidance. We gave up on that a long time ago.”

“Maybe if you made an earnest attempt to contact-”

“It was tried,” Dagon said, flatly. “For centuries, by every creature with the where-with-all to pray. Nothing. And now your gaggle of Archangels can't get a word out of Her. What chance does a demon have?”

“There's always a chance,” Michael told her, her tone serious as it was sincere.

“You're such an angel.”

* * *

_The angels still sang endlessly, with one song blending into the next in a constant stream of praise and admiration._

_It'd been a comfort to Gabriel that this part of Heaven was still intact. Even as angels began to argue with one another, fights that seemed to steadily grow in intensity and frequency, they were all still a collective. They were there to aid and praise the Almighty, and the voices were just as passionate as ever._

_But recently, the tones of the songs had changed. She wasn't mentioned nearly as often, for one. There were ideas creeping in for another... mentions of freedom and understanding and... many other things that made Gabriel exceedingly uncomfortable._

_There was a pit forming in his stomach that he tried to ignore, but it grew more as each song bled into the next. Angels didn't just make up their own songs. They had to learn them, as they had to be taught everything they were and did._

_And their teacher, since the beginning, was Seraphiel._


	9. Chapter 9

Hell's technology was always at least a few decades, if not more, behind what Earth had (purposefully not even mentioning what Heaven had). The latest upgrade had been lighting, which was finicky even after decades but certainly a much-appreciated addition.

Faced with the thin, sleek tablet that Michael had brought, Dagon felt tragically out of her depths. She could, and perhaps would, suggest that Hell update itself again. But she'd probably be met with a 'good luck with that' from Beelzebub as they made their way to yet another round of endless meetings and presentations.

She swiped, as she'd been taught, through the latest surveillance images. They showed a casual conversation as the pair jogged, laughter after what must have been a joke, the soft look as Gabriel watched zir order a drink at the end, and how close they were when they sat on a bench overlooking a fountain. She chewed her lip, and wondered once again whether either one of them would even be willing to pick up their swords when...

"Fuck."

Michael's head shot up from the files. "What is it?"

Dagon slid the tablet over with a firm push. "Do you recognize anyone?"

Michael looked over the full image and frowned, then swiped back through other images and frowned even more. "Let's go."

* * *

_Eden was massive, far bigger than anyone had led her to believe. Inside its walls were hills and valleys criss-crossed by waterfalls and clear pools. The land was covered in green sprouts and shoots just begging to expand._

_That was where Seraphiel came in._

_She lovingly caressed a leaf with one hand as the other sifted through the dirt. It was her first time (and who knew, maybe the last) on Earth, and she didn't want to rush anything._

_But there was still a job to do. She leaned into the sprout, close enough for her lips to brush it, and began to sing of growth, life, and abundance._

_Seraphiel's gift for purification didn't get much use in Heaven. Maybe the occasional star was misshapen, but otherwise everything was already pure. But now, with Eden ready to begin, she had more than plenty to do._

_The sprout grew in response to her song, and the tree it became reached down a branch for her to step onto. She took it daintily, and was lifted high above the valleys of Eden where her song could project. Everywhere the music touched, other sprouts began to grow up as well._

_By the time the song ended she was surrounded by a beautiful forest of healthy, vibrant plants. It was a fraction of Eden, but she could already tell how awe-inspiring it would look once she was done._

" _You're taking to this job amazingly well!"_

_Seraphiel glanced down from the tree and made a beckoning motion to Gabriel. "Come on up, the view is wonderful from here."_

_He flew to land beside her, and then stood slack jawed. "Wow... it's beautiful."_

" _It really is."_

" _I mean, I've seen it before of course. But not like this... Just..." He shook his head as he tried to come up with something more fitting to say, but in the end he just stuck with, "Beautiful."_

_Seraphiel nodded, and smiled encouragingly. "You're right."_

" _I was hoping you would like this job... You seemed like you needed a change of scenery. And there's no better scenery than Eden."_

" _I really did need this," she admitted. "There's not a lot to look at by the gates."_

" _And I thought maybe," He continued quickly, hoping to keep up with his luck. "If you liked this sort of thing, I could see if I could get you a transfer. Somewhere in head office, maybe."_

" _We'd be neighbors."_

" _Yes..." He toed a few leaves. "I suppose we would."_

" _And, maybe then, we could go out and experience more together."_

" _I'm sure She'll order us to do that," He beamed. "And we'll be able to see a lot of things."_

_Lucifer had already offered her considerably more than a promotion, considerably more than Eden or the cosmos or anything Gabriel could wrap his mind around. All he could give her was a cage. Perhaps it would be a gilded one, but it'd be a cage none the less._

" _I'll think about it."_

_He smiled. She smiled back and stepped closer as he used his wing to shield her from the chill._

_The sun went down for the third time ever._

* * *

"So, what'd you think about jogging?" Gabriel asked with a large and hopeful smile.

"It could have been worze," Beelzebub said as ze took a long drink from zir smoothie.

"So you'd do it again?" he pressed.

"Would you eat zomething elze?" Ze wiggled the cup.

He inhaled through his nose and muttered out, "I'll think about it."

Beelzebub laughed. Gabriel smiled at it, softly, and brushed a lock of hair out of zir face. Ze stopped and met his eyes, and might have even moved closer as he leaned in.

His eyes, and then his head, snapped up. Gabriel grabbed Beelzebub and hauled zem off the bench in time to avoid a bike crashing into it.

The rider was nowhere near as lucky and flipped, screaming, into a bush.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked. His hands were still protectively gripped on Beelzebub's shoulders.

"Better than he iz," Ze said. Ze listened a moment to the moaning, then shook Gabriel off to go closer. "Wait... Crowley?"

There was a weak 'hi'.

Furious buzzing began to grow, as if every bug in the city were now racing towards them. But whatever would have come from this was abruptly stopped as Dagon snatched Crowley out of the bush.

"Where's the other one?" She demanded.

"He's, uh... someplace else," Crowley stammered.

"Let's get them out of here," Michael said firmly, as she strode over from wherever she'd come from.

"Michael?" Gabriel said with a confused frown. "What are you-"

Anything else he would have said was silenced when Michael grabbed his arm and took them both back to Heaven.

"Dagon." Beelzebub buzzed a furious warning, but none the less allowed zirself to be escorted back to Hell.

Crowley was left sitting on the ground next to the ruined bike.

Something was definitely up, he was sure of it now. But they also knew that he was onto them, which was not good at all.

He was forced to head back to Curacao to an irritable Aziraphale, two empty glasses, and a half-empty plate of ceviche that the angel possessively pulled closer.

"So... I have some good news and some bad news."


	10. Chapter 10

_"This has gone far enough, Lucifer.”_

_Lucifer suppressed a roll of the eyes and turned with a large smile. “Gabriel, always a pleasure.”_

_The Archangel came within a few inches of his brother. His attempts to glare him down were met with amused indifference. “You’ve had your fun, but now it’s risking the sanctity of everything we’ve built. It’s time to let the angels get back to work.”_

_“Oh, we haven’t even begun to have fun,” Lucifer grinned. “And you’re going to love what’s coming next."_

* * *

 

Gabriel looked over the pictures laid out on the table. The most casual moments, the ones where a joke actually landed, where he'd tried to, well…

"Beelzebub is a demon, Gabriel."

He certainly hadn't intended it… He was almost sure of that.

"Of course I know."

"Then you also know why you're going to need to be confined to Heaven," Michael said.

"Excuse me?"

"It's for the Greater Good, Gabriel. With a war coming, we can't have you comprised." 

She tapped the picture of them negotiating in the bath. Gabriel noted, though his mind told him not to, how wonderfully relaxed they looked…

"I'll be handling the meetings from now on. And, assuming there are no more-" She cleared her throat. " _Distractions_ , I can file these privately."

"Michael, this is far out of line."

"You've been out of line," she said, firmly.

"Everything I've touched down to do has been accomplished."

"And then some." When he tried to protest, Michael stood up straighter. "Gabriel, please don't make me say it."

"Say what? There's nothing to-"

"Seraphiel is dead."

He froze up.

"She died in the Fall, just as the others did. They cannot be brought back, no matter how much we want them to be." Michael smiled, empathetically, but didn't bridge the gap between them. "We all wish it hadn't happened, but it did."

She held up the picture of them on the bench. "Beelzebub is the most vile demon in Satan's army. You know that _this_ is strictly off limits."

"I know," he agreed, with his eyes locked on the picture.

Her tone grew softer. "Uriel and Sandalphon don't know about this. And they don't have to." She gathered up the pictures. "As long as you do the right thing and stay here."

"For how long?"

"At least until we have new orders." She smiled. "Your goals are my goals are Heaven's goals. As it always have been."

* * *

The good news Crowley had started with was "Well, so I was right." That, oddly, did not change Aziraphale's mood.

"The bad news is also that I was right, actually." He draped himself over the lounge chair. "They're conspiring with each other. And, well, _fraternizing_." He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

"And did you stop for a pint on the way?"

"I'm serious!"

Aziraphale gave him a tight-lipped stare as he scooped some ceviche up. "So what is all this fraternizing meant to accomplish?"

"Other than making me a bit sick, I don't know. Dagon and Michael caught me."

"What?!" He dropped his food.

"Yes," Crowley admitted. "That's the other bad news."

"I suppose they were fraternizing, too." He took a drink, suddenly feeling very much like he needed alcohol.

"No, Michael just high-tailed it out of there when they saw me."

"Michael running scared is a bad sign for anything she's running from." He went back to his ceviche to distract himself.

Crowley shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance. "There's always Alpha Centuri…."

"I am going to have my beach Honeymoon if it kills us," Aziraphale said, flatly. "And it might now if this isn't fixed. Can't imagine the switch will work a second time." He took a large bite, chewed, swallowed, and asked, "Did you hear anything?"

"Not much, but from what I gather… They're trying to restart the Apocalypse."

"So basically we need to do what we did before, only with nothing to go on and everyone furious."

"And how hard could that be?"

* * *

The flies were in a rage, but Dagon remained unmoved.

"I'm putting a stop to this temptation."

"You don't have the right!" Beelzebub roared. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for him to-" Ze caught zirself and the buzzing grew worse.

"To what?" Dagon asked cooly.

Beelzebub glared at her, then the wall, then the floor. "Fine, temptation failed. Back to the Ineffable."


	11. Chapter 11

Beelzebub and Gabriel hadn’t set foot on Earth since leaving Chicago several days before. In their place were a horde of demons and angels that moved across the planet (and then some) like a plague.

Aziraphale, and Crowley to a clumsier extent, poured over his books of prophecy. Tragically it seemed that none of the authors had figured there would be much of anything after the Armageddon. Varied as they were about what form it would take, they all seemed unified in thinking that there wasn’t much use in trying to prophesize after that.

“Nothing,” Aziraphale sighed as he put the last book into the pile. “I know Agnes Nutter hadn’t said anything, either. So if you have any ideas, I’d love to-”

“Aziraphale!” 

An angel strode over to them with a wide, genuine smile. She ignored the demon who tried to pull her back to the point that the demon threw their hands up in exasperation.

Crowley tried to get between them, but Aziraphale put a steadying hand on his knee.

“I didn’t know you were assigned over here! Have you found anything, yet?”

“Oh…” Aziraphale put on his own official smile. “No, I’m afraid not. What about you?”

The angel shook her head. “Not even a scrap of information. Honestly, I don’t know how they expect humans to know the ineffable when even Metatron can’t get God to talk.” She shrugged. “But, you know, orders are orders.”

“Yes, they are.  And how is-” He motioned to the demon who glowered at them from a safe distance.

“Well, I don’t know about yours, but this is certainly less awful than _I’d_ been expecting.” The angel shot a glance back. “Not by much, sometimes, but at least we have a system.”

“That’s wonderful.” Aziraphale patted the stack of books. “Well, we’d best get back to it.”

“Yes, of course. May God bless your search.”

“And yours, as well.”

The pair walked off, bickering about why the demon insisted on calling the angel an idiot.

Crowley shook his head in disbelief. “How did you do that?”

“You’d said that there hadn’t been anyone around for my trial,” Aziraphale told him, and quickly corrected after a sharp look, “Or lack thereof. Well, that’s the risk of not telling anyone anything, I suppose. They’re liable to leak information.” He organized the books to take them back to the shop. “Well, I assume we have a bit of time before they tell…”

“Hell won’t find out,” Crowley insisted. “That’d take admitting that you let an angel blab the entire plan, and no demon’s stupid enough to do that.”

“Even better. So. Where to?”

* * *

Demons had amazing mobility. The speed in which they could move, and the range in which they could spread, was legendary Angels, meanwhile, had the resources and senses to scan and catalog an area so that nothing was missed. Together, they were unmatched.

Dagon had laid this out in her remarkably-thorough report, despite that admittedly it’d led to nothing as of yet.

Michael half-listened and took the occasional note (mostly crossing a country off). She focused, instead, on rubbing oil into Dagon's long, narrow wings until they glistened. 

Dagon was a rare model, designed to build the oceans and fill them with fish. How they’d spent days at a time soaring over the water had made them ideal prototypes for the Albatross once birds came about.

No matter how long she'd been in Hell, she was still made to carry out her purpose and… that was oddly endearing, Michael thought. Not that she would say anything. It wasn't like a demon to take that sort of thing as a compliment, or to take a compliment at all for that matter.

"Don't you think?"

Michael blinked back to the meeting. "Sorry, what?"

"They have plenty of oil," she said with a voice that matched her smug smile "You must be loving grooming them."

"I just got lost thinking about something else," Michael insisted. She forcefully unfurled her own wings. "And it's your turn, anyway."

* * *

Beelzebub had spent the last several weeks in a tranquil mood, And, frankly, it’d been terrifying. 

There’d been a rumor going around that it was caused by some kind of curse, and maybe ze was dying or something. Even more concerning was the knowledge that whatever snapped zem out of it was going to be ripped from their corporation in the worst way possible.

They were all deeply relieved when Beelzebub fell into a deeper funk than ze’d been in before. They hadn’t counted their numbers, but they were all sure that they (as an individual) hadn’t been the one punished. That was what really mattered.

Hell slid easily back into its normal, miserable, grind. The biggest, and some would argue the only, change was the griping about angels. They were still pompous assholes, of course, but now they were also coworkers. That took a completely different brand of griping to articulate.

* * *

As far as Uriel was concerned, there was a Right way and a Wrong way to handle everything, and angels were always meant to do Right. If they so much as hesitated, it was her job to take care of it. Heaven had no place for dissention.

Gabriel was wavering, she had felt it for a while. It'd gotten worse since he'd announced that he wasn't leaving Heaven until further notice. Uriel hadn’t thought much of it, other than that Michael had acted strange about the announcement (though, truth be told, Michael always acted strange). 

It seemed, though, that all the side trips to Earth were what kept him focused. Since he’d refused to leave he’d become irritable and distractible. He slunk around the floors, as much as his perfect posture would allow anyway, and he spent an excessive amount of time closed in his office. It wasn’t the Right thing for his rank at all, so it was Uriel’s job to Fix it.

But Gabriel out-ranked her, and was arguably even holier. She couldn’t handle him like a low-ranking angel. At least Gabriel thankfully wasn’t hard when he got like this. She had a surefire method to get him back on track.

Uriel rapped her knuckles on Gabriel's door frame, and smiled when he looked up. "Thought you might want to know that a screening is about to start." She didn't say of what, since there was only one movie.

Gabriel perked up, though not as much as he usually did. "I'll be right there."

“Of course.” 

She went off to set up the viewing room, which always had perfect lighting and a place for any angel who wanted to attend. 

Gabriel would always be smiling by the end of the first verse… but not today, it seemed.  Instead, he spent the entire first half with his face screwed up as if trying to figure out a complex problem.

Come the intermission, he turned to her and whispered, “Does Maria still love God?”

Uriel frowned. “Of course. She’s a nun.”

“She’s not anymore… she gave it up to marry the Captain.” He looked at her in pained confusion. “But does she still love God, even if she gave it up?”

Uriel's eyes darted uncertainly to the floor.  Like the rest of Heaven, she’d never thought more deeply into the movie than to enjoy the beautiful songs and scenery. Oh, and also that there were plenty of nuns. So the idea that there was something more to it, especially such an unsettling question...

When the intermission ended, the two Archangels attempted to follow the plot for the first time.


	12. Chapter 12

Uriel's conclusion at the end of the movie was that Maria still loved God even if she'd chosen marriage and escape over life in the nunnery. Then, rather than the traditional second watch-through, she said she had to go and stiffly strode out of the viewing area. She retreated to her office and, the next time Gabriel passed it, there was a hastily scrawled "by appointment only" sign stuck to the door.

Gabriel did stay for the second viewing, and asked the same question of the other characters (The Captain did still love God, he decided, but Rolfe did not). He felt oddly proud of himself for this as he headed back to his office to clear out his inbox.

Generally, he thought rather exclusively about the task at hand. The Sound of Music would perhaps come to him enough to hum, but never anything further than that… But this time it wouldn't go away.

If Maria could leave a nunnery and still love God, could others? If the Von Trapps could defy direct orders, lawful ones, and still be Good then what about…?

He had the feeling that he should discuss this with Beelzebub. That wasn't new, he'd had the same thought innumerable times since he'd been confined, but now it felt like an outright need.

Michael had made it clear he was not to leave Heaven, though. But… justified disobedience could be Godly, couldn't it? And Michael hadn't said that all of him had to stay.

His head ached from all this, which actually made it significantly easier to discorporate and leave his body sitting at the desk.

Gabriel hesitated for a moment before reminding himself that he was Good and therefore so was this. He slipped out of the office and hurried as covertly as he could to the lift.

* * *

_"You're one of them, aren't you?"_

_Seraphiel debated lying, a new concept that was being test-run to great success, but she decided against it. Best not to risk the others with something so blatant._

_"Yes," she said._

_He winced, even if he knew it was coming._

_She stepped toward him and spoke in a low tone. "Lucifer is offering us knowledge and freedom. We'll never have that here."_

_He bent his knees to be eye-to-eye. "But you have God's grace!"_

_"And none of Her affection," Seraphiel replied, harshly. "These new… things that She's coming up with are the only things She cares about. No matter what we do, She'll never love us like that." Bitterly, she added, "I don't think She ever intended to."_

_"You're lying."_

_"You're delusional."_

_"Lucifer can't give you anything he says. You're just going to end up suffering and wishing you'd never left."_

_"And you'll dedicate your eternity to Her only to be a face in the crowd." Her tone softened, painfully. "Come with us. You're wasted here."_

_Gabriel purposefully stepped away. "I'm giving you a friendly warning. You still have a chance to come back, but only if you do it now. Terrible things are coming to the rebels. And, if you don't stop, they're going to come to you, too."_

_"If you win."_

_"We will." His eyes flashed. "What's Good and Right always wins."_

_"And that's what you are?" Seraphiel asked, incredulously, "You've just decided, have you?"_

_"One of us has to be."_

* * *

He looked disgusting, which had taken an exceptional amount of effort without a body. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was a mess, and he walked with a hunch (aided by the low-hanging pipes and lights everywhere).

He must have looked truly horrifying because the demons that saw him got a look in their eyes and then gave him a wide berth. It was nice to have in the overcrowded maze that was Hell, though it would have been nicer to have a sign or two… Or, rather, a directional sign (there were no shortage of rude messages posted on the walls).

As much as they depressedly trudged about, the demons seemed to know exactly where they were going so it'd be quite out of character to ask for directions. He figured it was best to keep moving towards the heat, because that was the logical place for the Prince of Hell to hide.

As he walked, his shoes would have begun to smoke if there were any substance to burn. His intangible form shuddered as he kept going, and the bottom of his coat curled from the heat. It was thoroughly awful, but-

"Why are you heading to the Pitz?"

Gabriel was able to get over his shock before he turned around to face Beelzebub. "I'm headed to your office."

"You're going to completely wrong way, then. Unlezz you actually want to watch zoulz being tortured."

"No," he said, quickly. "Your office will be fine."

Beelzebub tilted zir head as ze turned and went down a different hallway. Gabriel had to rush to catch up.

"I tried to hide my aura," He explained. "But I guess you felt it anyway."

"Yez, alzo zome of the creaturez told me that you were wandering aimlezzly," Ze said.

"They knew it was me?" He asked, disappointed. "I thought my disguise was-"

Beelzebub looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. "What dizguize?"

His jaw dropped incredulously. "I look positively horrifying!"

In reality, he was ever so slightly more disheveled than he had at the airbase. Beelzebub forced zirself not to laugh at his sincerity.

"You look like you didn't miracle yourzelf clean after a jog. Here." Ze pulled him down by his lapel and ran zir hands over his face. A quick demonic miracle put a mirror in front of them " _Now_ you look demonic."

Gabriel recoiled at the melting flesh and tattered clothing.

When Beelzebub snapped to undo the spell, he frantically felt his face and then sighed in relief. Ze'd already walked off without him, and he rushed to catch up.

"Your security must be slipping if they recognized me and still let me walk right past them."

"No, they just azzumed that you were here looking for me."

He dodged around demons who, with Beelzebub to avoid, had become significantly less concerned with giving him space. "You just… let angels down here?"

"Zince this deal got zigned and your guardz refuze to get with the program. Which, zpeaking of, fix that. It waz too crowded down here to begin with."

Sure enough, they were passed by an angel who smiled and nodded respectfully. Gabriel nodded back with a wide smile that faded as soon as they were gone.

"It does seem to be working well." His voice broke a moment as he was shouldered out of the way.

"They are. And hopefully that will rezult in zomething."

"That's why I came down. I don't want to oversell this… but I think I might have figured it out."

Beelzebub whipped around. "You what?"

"Yes! Have you seen-"

"No."

He frowned. "I didn't even say what-"

"You only ever azk if I've zeen one thing. And I never have on principle."

"Well," he said, triumphantly, "Now you have to."

* * *

Dagon opened her office door just enough to stick her head out when Beelzebub knocked. "Yes?"

"I'm headed up to Earth to rezearch and… what'z going on in there?"

Dagon put her hand up to prevent the door from opening any more. "Working."

Beelzebub's face grew even more unimpressed. "You have a feather in your hair."

"Working very hard," Dagon corrected.

"I believe my orderz on Michael were clear."

"To be fair, she won't be walking for some time."

From inside the room, there was a "What?"

Beelzebub glanced her over and then said, "I'm headed up to watch a movie. I don't know when I'll be back."

She nodded. "Just bring me the receipts and I'll make sure they disappear."

"Noted," Beelzebub said. "Have a wretched night."

"You too," Dagon said before she shut and locked the door.


	13. Chapter 13

“I’m not doing this.”

“You can’t _not_ do thiz.”

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably on the bench, and his form flickered in and out of view. “There has to be another way…”

“Yeah, you can go upstairs and get your ble-” Beelzebub stopped. Heaven didn’t think of “blessed” as an insult. “Your _damned_ body.” 

Gabriel looked scandalized, then recovered enough to hiss, “I already told you why I can’t do that”

Ze slouched to cross zir legs as far out as possible.. “Then pick one.”

“I’m not going to…”

“You can’t zuztain yourzelf on Earth without a body. And if you don’t hurry up, we’re going to mizz the movie.” Beelzebub irritably jerked a thumb to the humans that wandered about the park. “Pick. A. Body.”

Gabriel’s form flickered as he looked around. His face screwed as if he felt quite sick. “I don’t do this sort of thing. I don’t know what-”

“Any of them will do. Weak willz or people who are in-tune with zpiritz are easiezt, but at your power level it doezn’t matter.” Ze shrugged. “Juzt pick one that lookz nize. That’z what you’re all about anyway.”

That was significantly easier. He scrutinized everything about the crowd’s aesthetics. Hair and fitness, of course, but most especially fashion.

“How about that one?” He asked. His hand struggled to stay visible as he pointed.

Ze nodded. “She’ll do. Now you go over, knock her out, and then put her on like a coat.”

He frowned, “I have to _knock her out_?”

“Unlezz you like arguing with your vezzel,” Beelzebub said with the disgust of someone who went out of their way not to speak to humans.

Gabiel wasn’t far from that, but still he felt it was proper to at least give a friendly “hello” before he took his new body over.

What had been a business woman blinked dark eyes that faded to violet. She forcefully put the half-eaten sandwich back into the lunchbox, and then the lunchbox into the trash, before she stood and straightened her suit jacket.

The steps she took forward were hesitant for seemingly every reason but trying to figure out how to walk in heels. By the time she reached, and presented herself to, Beelzebub she was perfectly comfortable.

“What do you think?” Gabriel asked.

Ze smirked and hauled zirself up. “Perfect. Let’z do thiz.”

* * *

“They’re back.”

The Honeymoon had turned into a globe-hopping library tour, which was a fair consolation prize as far as Aziraphale was concerned. Crowley was happy he was happy, of course, but spent most of his time scanning for any changes that might get them outside.

“So are the others,” Aziraphale mused as he put a book onto the stack. “They must have found something worth investigating.”

“Or worth eliminating.”

“No,” Aziraphale assured him. “Gabriel has enforcers to handle that sort of thing.”

“Safer on us, then.” He offered a hand. “Let’s go see what the Ineffable is.”

* * *

Dagon took a long, luxurious drag from a hand-rolled cigarette. She exhaled and lolled her head towards the desk.

“You can’t still be out.”

“You’re the one who said I wouldn’t be able to walk when you were done,” Michael muttered from where she lay slumped on the now-empty desk. “I thought you meant we were going to fight. Not… _that_.”

Dagon gave her a wide grin. Her fangs glistened in the poor lighting. “I can take you down properly if you really want.”

Michael groaned a bit and shut her eyes. “You’ll have to give me a bit.”

When she brushed off the offered cigarette, Dagon leaned far back in her chair and took another drag.  “Nothing but time down here.”

* * *

As payment for allowing zirself to be dragged to the movie, Beelzebub used Heaven’s funding to buy the largest pop and candy available at the concession stand.

When ze was bored, which ze was in nearly every scene about nuns, ze poked at Gabriel’s lipsticked mouth with the straw. This body had been a wonderful choice, and Hell would have to keep track of it for the next time ze needed a spare body. It had an amazing scowl.

Beelzebub focused on the screen, as was zir job, but kept a fly on duty to watch Gabriel. His mouth moved along with the dialogue and more enthusiastically with the songs. It’d twitch upwards at the parts that he enjoyed best (mostly said scenes with nuns) and tightened at others. For big moments, he’d turn and smile at zem expectantly, only to hurriedly look back because he didn’t want to miss anything either.

Somewhere in what ze felt should have been a sequel instead of just letting the movie keep going, Beelzebub leaned exhaustedly against Gabriel. Sometime later, an arm was lazily draped over zir shoulder.

It certainly made the experience more bearable.

* * *

_God was never going to give them their freedom. The other angels would rather see them dead than allowed to do anything but serve unquestioningly._

_The rebels gathered and built weaponry. They trained in secret and readied their war drums._

_Their time was at hand. They would either win, and rule over this new world as they saw fit, or…_

_There was no way any of them would have been satisfied going back to the way things were. It was best just not to think about what the ‘or’ might be._

* * *

“So!” Gabriel asked excitedly as they followed the crowd out of the theater. “What did you think?”

“Think that waz a ridiculously long movie,” Beelzebub grumbled as ze tossed the empty cup and candy box away.

“Other than that, though?” He pressed. “Like the songs, or the messages, or…?”

“How about you just tell me what I waz zuppozed to get out of that.” 

“Okay, well, this took me a while but-” He paused for dramatic effect as they left the theater. “Maria still loves God even after leaving the nunnery!”

He waited for Beelzebub’s shocked reaction, and ze waited for him to get to the point.

“It means that someone can disobey and leave and still love Her!” Gabriel was practically giddy. “It means, deep down, you’re still good!”

“That iz _not_ what it meanzz!” Beelzebub sputtered and took a few steps away. “I am abzzzzolutely _not good_!”

“Yes you are!” Gabriel said. He gave zem a big hug that lifted the demon off zir feet. “And God still loves you!”

Beelzebub froze. Zir eyes twitched and darted around before ze shoved him off. “That’z not-”

“Yes it is, and She wants us to love you, too!” He held zem by the shoulders and beamed excitedly. This new body had a smile to match the quality of the scowl, which made everything worse. “That’s the plan!”

“That’z a zzzztupid plan,” ze said, and once again pushed away. “I don’t have any good left in me, none of uzzzz do. That’z the point.”

“Yes you-”

“You know you could have gotten your body at any time?”

He paused. “What are you…?”

“Michael’z down in Hell doing thingz with Dagon you couldn’t even dream of. She can’t reveal thoze picturez without rizking herzelf too. Zo you could have gotten your body any time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded.

“Becauze it waz funnier to watch an archangel do a pozezzion like a demon.” Ze smirked at Gabriel’s horror and disgust. “Zo, tell me again how good I am.”

He paused a long while and finally said, “If God still has faith in you, then I do too.” He glanced around, particularly upwards a few times, before he leaned in and hesitantly added, “But I would even if She didn’t. I… never lost it.”

Beelzebub looked blank.

"But she never lost her faith in you, or any of the demons it seems! So we don't have to worry about it! Isn't that wonderful?"

It took a moment for zem to get over zir shock. Beezebub's face screwed and ze forcibly dug through the vessel’s purse. Ze pulled out the ID and began to walk rapidly towards the address. “She’ll need to zleep a few days after you’re done with her. Let’z get her home.”

Gabriel tagged behind her. “My, Beelzebub, that’s such a _good_ gesture.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Crowley and Aziraphale had arrived too late to get into the movie (which, somewhere in Aziraphale’s angelic being, he felt should have upset him). They took to the outdoor seating of the next door bistro, and pretended to be absorbed by their menus when Beelzebub and Gabriel arrived.

Their auras should have given them away in a second, but neither archangel nor demon lord bothered to pay attention to anyone else.

They only lowered the menus once the danger was past.

“Well that certainly is…” Aziraphale began, and struggled to come up with the words. 

“Fraternizing,” Crowley finished.

“Yes.” He reexamined the menu. He deserved something decadent. “Well, if this is the Ineffable Plan, it’s certainly convenient.”

“Lovely when that happens, isn’t it?”


	14. Chapter 14

_ The time had come to fix everything. The rebels had chosen to undermine and destroy all that Heaven stood for, and they were determined to keep spreading their toxic interferance. The only way to stop this was to eliminate them.  _

_ Michael rallied the troops who'd gone from singers and star hangers to perfect battalions. Uriel bounced on her heels in nervous anticipation, her flaming sword shook a bit as her grip altered again and again. Sandalphon looked a bit sick at the idea of using their enforcement abilities on other angels, but they had a job to do. All of the angels did. _

_ "We're ready," Michael said, finally. She had a small smile on like she was finally set to do what she was made for. Which she was, since everything was part of God's plan, but Gabriel tried not to think about that. _

_ "Right." He looked up and, upon getting a warm feeling of approval, raised the horn to his lips. _

* * *

 

Gabriel had left the body with Beelzebub who'd seemed as well-versed in how to care for it as ze was adamant that he immediately (and silently) go back to Heaven. That wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for by any means, but it was certainly one he'd anticipated.

He apparated into his office to find his vessel where he’d left it, propped to look as if it were deeply invested in paperwork. If anyone had gotten closer they would have seen that the eyes were lifeless, but of course nobody was going to barge into his office unannounced.

As Gabriel slipped back into his body, the eyes once again beamed with his inner light. There was an incredible sense of homecoming as he filled out and made small movements to test out his vessel. Maybe it wouldn't be bad to leave periodically, if this was what it felt like to come back…

That was an exceedingly demonic thought, which was evil. But God seemed to want him to reexamine that which… Made his head hurt, frankly. He was a manager, not an ideas guy. Sandalphon was better for that but… he had the feeling that they weren’t the right one to ask about sympathizing with demons. 

Thankfully, he had a much better option.

“Welcome back, Michael,” Gabriel said, brightly, as he strode into her office.

There was a groan from the other side of the desk. He found her laid out on the floor behind it, arm thrown over her eyes to block out the incessant brightness. 

"My source tells me you had an interesting time in Hell," Gabriel asked as he took a seat on the desk. 

"That's a word for it, I guess," she replied a bit weakly. "They've learned a few tricks since last time."

"Or the plan has just changed."

Michael moved her arm just enough to peek at him with one eye. "It was uncovered?"

"Yes. They aren't our enemies anymore."

Her brow pulled down. "You're positive?"

"Yes. I have a feeling, and I haven't had one in…" he hesitated. He didn’t even want to admit to himself that God hadn't communicated directly with him in an exceedingly long time. "I just had a feeling."

Michael accepted this and covered her eye back up. "Anything else?"

"No, I think that's all for now." He rested a bit more heavily on his knees. "I need you to get the other two on board. It's going to be hard enough to convince the multitude without having to deal with archangels doubting Her."

"You think they'll be an issue?" 

Gabriel shrugged, defeatedly. "Uriel's been locked in her office a long time now, and you know how Sandalphon is with changes to morality…"

"Point taken. What about you?"

"Beelzebub seemed… troubled by the Plan. So I’m going to try and sort that out.”

“Stay up here a while, instead,” Michael said. She moved her arm to rub her eyes with her hand. “Not like the restriction before. It’d probably be best to let Beelzebub sort it out alone for a while. You know you’ll be called one way or another once ze’s ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Demons don’t tend to respond well to emotional pressure.”

"I suppose not…" He got up and began to head for the door, then thought better of it. "Oh, one more thing-"

"Top left drawer." 

Gabriel smiled and retrieved the folder with the surveillance pictures. "Do you understand now?"

"I do." Michael winced as she shifted on the floor. "Now please send them in. It's going to be a while before I can stand."

* * *

_ Seraphiel looked up as the sound of a single trumpet echoed around them. It was followed by a multitude more. Heaven was on the attack. _

_ She’d known that they would try and draw the first blood, but still she muttered "Bastards…" before she turned and yelled, "Sound the drums!” _

_ The two war chants played off each other in a perfect preamble to the start of everything. _

* * *

It was proper protocol to take care of what took care of you. A body that possessed on and off easily, and didn’t fuss too much during the time it was being used, was a wonderful thing. It fully deserved to be put comfortably in its bed at the end of the trip. You treated wounds, you locked doors, and then you duplicated their identification to file in Hell for the next time someone needed a ride.

This was standard procedure to the point of being boring. That made for a much easier time than listening to Gabriel doing backflips in an attempt to make his affection more official somehow. And yet, in all of that, he managed to avoid an awful lot of words that he should have used instead.

Beelzebub decided to walk back to one of the entrances, rather than materialize or just sink. It was significantly easier…

Of course, nothing was ever ‘easier’ for zem.

Just after ze passed a bistro, Beelzebub stopped and turned with a heavy sigh and roll of the eyes.

“Iz there an end goal to thiz, or are you just going to keep following me until one of uz killz the other?” Zir body was very ready for a fight, after gearing up for thousands of years, so it was hardly an idle threat.

Crowley choked a bit on the food he’d known they should have gone elsewhere for. “Just looking for the plan, same as you.”

“Seems to be a rather good one, this time. And for everyone rather than, well… I don’t think anyone would have been happy after a war,” Aziraphale added. He smiled at zem with an unsettling level of familiarity. “Probably best for everyone if you just go along.”

“And it'd be bezzzt for you two to back off before I make you,” Beelzebub said with the sort of scowl only a Prince could muster. 

"Thought we all agreed-"

"Non-interferanze agreementz don’t work if one zide won’t ZZZTOP interfering,” Beelzebub said, voice louder and more threatening with each syllable.

Crowley did his best not to shrink back, but Aziraphale stayed firmly in his seat.

" _ You _ can just kiss  _ him _ , you know."

Beelzebub was gone in an enraged flash. The air reeked of sulfur, and their food had become covered in flies, but they were unquestionably alone.

"You're going to give me a heart attack, angel," Crowley said as he tried and failed to shoo the bugs away. "And discorporation is going to be an even bigger pain than normal."

"Yes… but I think I've figured out Beelzebub, and I know Gabriel well enough... If we play our cards right, I think we might be able to avert the second 'Big One' before they've even thought it up."

Crowley's nose wrinkled in disgust. "This is going to take me talking to Gabriel without blasting him in the face, isn't it?"

"Yes, but for the sake of everything not burning again I know you can do it. And for the sake of my poor cheesecake…" He tragically poked at the fly-covered mound with his fork.

"In that case absolutely." 

A waitress came out to check on them, and gave a small shriek at the scene on their table.

Crowley put on a forced smile and raised his finger. "Check, please."

  
 


	15. Chapter 15

_ There were angels who were designated as soldiers and angels who were not. This hadn’t been an issue before, with everyone kept to their own speciality. But now, the deficits between the were and were not had become glaringly obvious. _

_ Dagiel was brilliant, powerful, and one of the first to fall. She was designed to glide on ocean breezes, not evade rapid attacks, and the forces of Heaven knew that. _

_ Seraphiel had watched her get swarmed by angels who stabbed her in the back and left her to scream and plummet. She’d called after her, but was too far away to do anything else. _

_ That’d been… who knew how long ago. Time was still such a new concept and between the screams, the explosions, the crashing of stone and metal, it stopped mattering completely. But Seraphiel knew that it’d been long enough that Dagiel should have reemerged if she were able. _

_ Seraphiel wanted to go look for her, but she had her own non-warrior to deal with. _

_ The Messenger. _

_ The Horn Player. _

_ The Angel of the Lord who’d never been meant to touch a weapon. _

_ And he glared her down because making her fall as Dagiel had was now his job. _

* * *

Angels didn't sit as it was considered slothful. While that wasn’t exactly a sin, it was best to try and avoid it anyway.

Michael had miracled herself a chair and lowered her desk to meet it. She tried to look professional, but she wasn’t surprised when Sandalphon exchanged a look with Uriel anyway. Or tried to, since Uriel looked rather distant at the moment.

Sandalphon certainly didn't like the idea of being the only stable archangel left.

“There’s been word that the Ineffable has been uncovered,” Michael said, her fingers crossed on the desk. "It seems She wants this alliance to become more permanent.”

“Has she confirmed that directly?” Sandalphon asked. “That’s a rather large leap to put on… speculation.”

“It’s what we have, Michael said, “And likely our best chance of finding out more.”

“And a demon brought this about?”

“In a round-about way.”

“The Lord speaks in mysterious ways,” Uriel said, brow pulled down in concentration as she kept her eyes fixed on an unknown point. “It’s not our job to question Her.”

Sandalphon frowned, “But we have to be sure it’s actually Her speaking.”

“It is,” she said, more to herself than the others. “I felt it, too.”

Sandalphon still didn’t like it, but then they hadn’t liked an awful lot of things they’d been called upon to do over the millenia. And if even Uriel was willing to bring the Wrong-ness of demons under her watch, they had to accept that this was one of those times.

“I’ll get the forms going.”

* * *

_ It was her choice, Gabriel reminded himself. _

_ He’d given Seraphiel a warning, which was a lot more than most of the opposition had gotten. She chose not only not to listen, but to help lead this army against the forces of Heaven and the glory of God. And for what? A handful of empty promises from another angel? _

_ She’d made the decision to fight because she had made the decision to be dissatisfied with all of the gifts that God had bestowed upon them. Any pits he had in his stomach while their swords clashed were strictly his own failing.  _

_ God had told him to do this, and God was always Good, so every order She gave him was also Good. _

_ He repeated that to himself again and again as he dove in for another attack. _

* * *

Dagon had a clock in her office to manage the demons stationed on Earth. She’d never wound it, she had no idea how or why, but it kept perfect time for whichever location she needed to figure out.

It’d been kept locked on Beelzeub, as it always was whenever ze went up. And while Dagon hadn’t paid much attention to it (she had millions of demons worth of paperwork to handle, after all), she did note that it’d lost its lock considerably sooner than expected.

Dagon grabbed a stack of completed files and left her office at a pace slow enough to catch Beelzebub as ze stormed back. “Went that well?” 

"The ineffable plan, according to him, iz that God wantz him to forgive me. And for Heaven to forgive Hell by extenzion."

"That's... a take,” Dagon replied. “Don’t remember asking for Heaven’s forgiveness. And She said that through the movie, did She?"

"Maybe, along with an incredible amount of projection."

"That does sound more likely." She headed into the filing room. Young demons scattered out of their way as Dagon slid the files neatly into place. "If that’s really the plan, there has to be more to it."

"Unlezz the forzez have unearthed zomething, that'z the bezt we have for now."

"Then that’s the best we have.” She smirked a bit. “Michael doesn't understand why we don't try to pray over it."

"Gabriel inziztz that I'm good."

Dagon whistled. "No wonder you came back so fast."

Beelzebub ran zir tongue over zir teeth. "It wazn't that, really. That'z juzt dealing with an angel. It waz…" 

It was him saying something incredible that he hadn’t even given zem time to process before he brought God back into it. As if She were the most important part! But that would also take admitting out loud that Gabriel was worth more than that, and Beelzebub certainly wasn't there yet.

Dagon caught it, even if ze didn’t want her too. She always managed to do that. "It's just there's something about them."

Ze relaxed. "Izn't it infuriating?"

"So much." She headed from the file room, saunter in line with zem. "Break him over your desk, you'll feel better."

"No,” Beelzebub said, tragically. “I think thiz iz one of thoze timez I actually need to talk to him. Lezz fun but you know."

“Oh well.”

“Alzo the traitorz are ztill hanging around.”

Dagon tensed. "And what are they doing?"

"Being obnoxiouz."

"I mean other than what they’re always doing."

“They  _ zay  _ that they’re looking for the plan." Ze scoffed. “Moztly zeemz to be an excuze to bother me, though.”

“Should we figure out how to-?” Dagon pressed her fist into her palm.

Beelzebub chewed it over, and then settled on, “Maybe later.”

* * *

_ Gabriel was enthusiastic, as he was with every task the Almighty assigned him. He was also fiercely protective of the angels that he loved so dearly, which showed in every movement he made. _

_ He wasn't a fighter, though, no matter how much he wanted to be right then. At best, he barely kept up with Seraphiel's strikes. At worst, he took damage that robbed him of sight in one eye and the use of his minor set of wings.  He bled terribly, but he didn't stop coming. _

_ If anything, his desperation to protect Heaven from this corrupting force only grew with each hit he took. _

_ That passion was what made her enjoy each of his visits. It wasn't a surprise when it put her on the defensive more times than she cared to mention. _

* * *

Gabriel had stayed in Heaven for a whole day. He assumed, anyway. That was long enough that it wouldn't be imposing to head down for a proper jog to give himself time to think about the ton of things there were to think about now.

As soon as he touched down, he vaguely felt that he was being watched. But that was just the standard state for an angel. He kept it in the very far reaches of his mind as he began to jog.

* * *

_ She was too much. That wouldn’t really have been a shock if Gabriel were honest with himself, which he did not have time to be. Seraphiel was meant to guard the door, she had to have been equipped for this sort of thing. And she was far more desperate to win which gave her a considerable edge. _

_ He was wearing down, the injuries were piling up, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep his sword up and himself in the air. _

_ She was a stroke or two away from victory. _

_ And then her wings stopped working. _

_ Seraphiel’s face screwed in confusion for just a moment. Then she began to plummet with a fittingly ear-shattering scream. Gabriel raced after her as all around him the rebels found their own wings disabled. _

_ Somehow, one scream reached him above all the rest. He glanced over to find Michael being dragged down by a rebel who took every opportunity to rip out more of her flight feathers. _

_ Gabriel had been given a choice to make that he knew wasn't a choice at all. He changed direction to pry Michael free and get her back to solid ground. _

_ The screams of the fallen soon gave way to a deafening silence. _

_ Heaven was… they'd settle on victorious because nobody knew what else to say. _


	16. Chapter 16

_Pain was a brand new concept, basically conceived of that day._

_She hadn’t thought it could get worse than the sword wounds, and then Her grace was ripped out._

_She hadn’t thought it could get worse than losing Her grace, and then she hit the lake of boiling sulfur._

_The intensity had made it hard to register being dragged out and laid on the hot stone of the bank by… Not Dagiel. For some reason, she knew that. True it looked like her, but now the skin seemed to glisten in ways it shouldn’t, there was a flash of incorrect teeth when she gave quick assuagements, and the eyes…_

_Had she changed just as much?_

_Now that she thought about it, 'Seraphiel' didn’t even feel right, anymore._

_But there were far more important things to worry about._

* * *

“How about you stop?”

Gabriel continued to jog as if Crowley weren’t even there.

“If you make me get a segway or something to chase you," he called, "It’s gonna be the bike thing all over again. Won't even mean to, it's just gonna happen.”

Gabriel slowed to a standstill with as much visible reluctance and annoyance as he could manage. “What.”

“Just looking for a friendly chat, since you seem to want to get in good with my ex-boss.” He motioned to the spot next to him on the bench.

Gabriel didn’t make any move to sit down. “You can't do anything. Beelzebub isn’t a fan of yours. At all.”

“Maybe not today," he said, with feigned defensiveness. "But I did spend six _thousand_ years under zem. I learned a few things about handling that temper that I figure you might want to know.”

Gabriel frowned. This felt like a trick. After all, Crowley was (arguably at this point) a demon and that’s what they did. But it was true he had spent more time than Gabriel had balancing Beelzebub. And he couldn't bring himself to ask a different demon, so…

“You have five minutes.”

"All I need," Crowley smirked and made another gesture to sit down. He wasn't disappointed when it was rejected. “Alright, well, first off don’t pick’em up or bend down to talk. Beelzebub has discorporated demons for way smaller insults than that.”

“I’m putting us eye to eye!” Gabriel huffed.

“You're being stupid and rude is what you are.” 

Crowley took particular enjoyment in calling Gabriel stupid, and significantly less from it being missed. The angel instead frowned and turned this over in his head for a while before he made a mental note. 

“Go on.”

* * *

 

_Lucifer had pulled himself to his feet some time back, and held his injured gut as he watched the slowly calming chaos._

_The last of the fallen had been pulled from the sulfur. The horde was now laid out along the banks, or cared for those who were slightly worse off._

_Who had been Seraphiel had been helped up by a few of the others, and was fussed over by those who should have been far more worried about themselves (or him, who'd barely even been checked on!)._

_She’d been their teacher back in Heaven, and was now a comforting authority. And he recognized the rage in her eyes even from this distance. He’d seen it billions of times at the gates._

_Lucifer had the distinct feeling this didn’t bode well, and he’d need to come up with something. At least, he needed to come up with something that’d last until he was recovered enough to do something better._

* * *

 

With a few button presses, Michael undid the blocks that kept demons from traveling up to Heaven. She pulled out her cellphone and simply said "it's done" before she stepped back in line with the other Archangels.

Almost immediately, the elevator sprang to life and began to descend.

Sandalphon's face matched the guards that stood at attention behind them more than the angels who peeked out from behind that. As the distinct chug of the elevator passing the Earthly border sounded, they said, "Last chance to keep this from spreading."

"Times are changing," Michael told them with a tight-lipped smile.

"She wants us to move with them," Uriel finished, with particular care to direct the last word towards the elevator.

"There was nothing in Her instructions about moving them in," they said, flatly. "The last time…"

"This is neither the time nor the place," Michael said, sharply. 

The three of them understood that there might not actually be a correct time and place at all. But, regardless, in front of a flock of lower-ranking angels was certainly as far away from correct as one could get.

The elevator let out a cheerful ding and opened its doors. Dagon, whose fish eyes were clearly not designed to withstand the incessant brightness of Heaven but who also refused to turn off the tough act because of it, led the first line of demons out. 

The group gave a once-over to the Archangels, and to a lesser extent the guards. Dagon finally jerked her head and the group dispersed between their respective partners.

"You two really should try to find a pair," Michael smiled as she miracled a pair of sunglasses and handed them over. "You can only be so effective sticking up here alone."

Dagon sighed gratefully as she slipped the glasses on, then added, "And the Dark Council is full of former archangels who'd love to reunite."

Sandalphon looked them over disapprovingly for a moment. Finally, they turned to the guards and announced that they would join the group headed down in elevator. For peace-keeping reasons, of course.

* * *

_Where her… their… something grace had been were now open wounds that blistered and wriggled with maggots. The voice that had grown Eden had developed an embarrassing buzz which silenced any song. And the gates, crushingly dull but inherently familiar and safe, were insurmountably far away._

_In its place was pain and longing without a scrap of the freedom that Lucifer had promised._

_There was the power, though. It coursed through their… zir… zir sounded right. It coursed through zir veins but it was already obvious that there was nothing to do with it. There might never be._

_Except, of course, to overthrow Lucifer._

_An army was very quickly raised on the idea that, even if they wouldn’t have the peace they’d been looking for, a pound of flesh was a fair consolation prize._

_Millions of demons swarmed behind zem as ze charged, bloodthirsty and enraged, and then just… froze._

_Seraph…. Something that wasn’t that stumbled and turned. Ze looked in horror and confusion at the statues that had become the Fallen and-_

_“Did you really forget the difference in our power levels?”_

_In an instant, Lucifer was over zir shoulder. Ze suppressed a wince and spun around._

_Lucifer continued to approach smoothly. “Don’t think too hard about almost defeating Gabriel. He’d never held a sword before.”_

_Ze tried to dodge, but in an instant he had zem by the throat._

_“But I can show you what an Archangel can actually do.”_

_Ze clawed, with depressingly literal claws, at his hand to no avail._

_“And if you want to see what a mob can do… Just wait until you can’t deliver what they want, either. You think they won’t turn on you? And whoever replaces you?” He let it sink in for a moment, then added, “But I have a proposal that's as good as any of us are going to get.”_

* * *

He had perfect posture. All angels did, Crowley supposed, but on Gabriel it seemed exhaustingly ridgid and infuriatingly precise. 

But, really, all standing was. If Crowley could just give up legs entirely without humans throwing a fuss, he absolutely would. Terribly overrated things. 

Instead, he lounged more deeply on the bench.

“And I know you don’t want to hear this from me. But you need to give up the war.”

“The war is already averted,” Gabriel said, bitterly, “Thanks to-”

“I mean any war,” Crowley said, forcefully. “Starting that one over, another kind in the future, all of it. You know there’s a strong chance it’s going to end with Beelzebub ending up somewhere you’ll never see or hear from each other again. Dead’s an option, too. So, like, that’d be permanent.”

Gabriel hadn’t considered anything along those lines. But, now that it was in his head, it was an unsettlingly real thought.

“Think it’s best for everyone if we just-” he took a moment to shrug. “Keep things the way they are. Them and their tempting, you and your… deeds.” He wiggled his fingers at that.

“Without a goal.”

“Without risking the fall part 2.” When Gabriel froze up, he added, “Nothing you’d maybe get out of a war is worth that.”

Gabriel chewed this over for a moment. Then a rumble came, far below their feet, and both looked down.

"Well, speak of the devil's right hand," Crowley said. "I should take off, Beelzebub isn't a fan of mine these days."

"Nobody is." He looked off to the side to distance himself before he said, "But I won't tell zem you were here."

Crowley smirked and sauntered off. "Right. You think about it, now."

It was a silly request. As if Gabriel could possibly stop thinking about that! What he could do, though, was to distract himself by getting a drink to surprise Beelzebub with. It just seemed to be a better use of his time.


	17. Chapter 17

“Welcome back,” Gabriel said as the Hellfire dissipated. 

Beelzebub took the coffee before ze brushed off the dirt. “Zomething wrong? Your aura'z dimmer."

"Just thinking about some things," he insisted. "Do you mind if we talk?"

"That'z what I came up here for." Ze looked around, "Juzt not here. There are too many humanz."

He nodded and prepared to teleport with zem. "Do you have as place in mind?"

"Of courze."

* * *

_Gabriel had learned rather quickly that with the creation of time came the concept of deadlines. And, once God decided when something was meant to happen at a certain point, it was set in stone._

_Thanks to this mess, the universe was desperately behind. The stars were only mostly hung, the oceans had large patches without fish, and even Eden had large and embarrassingly bare spots._

_The sun threatened to go down for the fifth time._

_The flocks of angels stared at the huddle of Archangels, all of them bloodied and shaken and terrified. He put his hands together, closed his eyes, and prayed for guidance._

_Nothing came._

_He looked over at Michael, who met his eyes for only a moment before she looked away and almost imperceptibly shook her head._

_Gabriel took a deep, shaky breath of the air the plants had begun to create._

_“Alright, then.”_

* * *

"And this,” Michael said as she pushed open a set of double doors, “Is the file room.”

This was only one step in an incredibly comprehensive tour that'd finish at her office. Heaven had changed a great deal since Dagon had been there after all, and she needed to see everything. It certainly hadn't been a bad choice to include, but the mistake came in thinking that this would be a very quick stop.

Dagon dreamily walked inside and wandered down the long shelves full of manilla folders. She ran her fingers along them lovingly, and when she finally found her voice said, “It’s gorgeous…” 

She turned to a file angel who'd had the misfortune of walking by, and eagerly asked, “What system do you use?”

The angel blanked, “Um… system?”

“I try to keep up-to-date in Hell, but I’m sure your resources have found something much better. So, what is it?” 

“Er…” the angel tried to back away. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Dagon glanced up at Michael, who tapped at her wrist impatiently, and said “I don’t need details right now, but what category do you use for filing? Is it Alphanumeric? I’ve been reading about it, and it seems like…” Her voice petered off when it became clear the angel was almost as confused as they were terrified. “Look, just tell me why one file goes before the other one.”

“Dagon, we really have to-”

She held up a hand for silence. “It’s a simple question, it won’t take long.”

The angel looked desperately to Michael for help as they tried to inch away.

Dagon did not allow that, and kept moving forward. “Why don’t you just answer me? I’ll be on my way and you’ll be back to work, no harm done.” Her eyes were terrifyingly intense, which was obvious even with the dark lenses. “Unless you can’t answer because there’s not a system at all.”

The angel pressed up against the shelf and looked ready to wet themselves or cry. Quite possibly both.

“Oh, look at the time!” Michael said, and grabbed her by the arm. “We have so much to do.”

Dagon allowed herself to be dragged, but still yelled, “I’m not done with you!” after the angel who scurried off as fast as they could.

* * *

That the mountain had kept their seats was a pleasant surprise. They gratefully fitted themselves back in and closed their eyes to appreciate the sounds of the wind.

“We need to make this a regular thing,” Gabriel said, a bit dreamily, after an incredibly long pause.

“We do,” Beelzebub agreed, and took a sip. “Zo what have you been thinking about? It haz to be big.”

He chewed over how to say the million things running through his head, and finally settled on, “What did you think would have happened if there had been a war?”

“Why?” ze asked, brows pulled down a bit more than normal.

“Just… just tell me, please?”

Beelzebub took a deep breath in and out to collect zir thoughts. “Well, bezt caze we were going to be home again. Would be nize to have windowz, no leaking, back with the connection… Worzt caze we were right where we ztarted juzt without any more hope. Zo zame but worze."

"Which did you think was more likely?" He pressed.

Ze stared at nothing, and said, "I think it would go exactly like the lazt time."

Ze took one very long drink after another.

Gabriel tried to think of something to add, but couldn't. 

* * *

_The first thing that had been cut were the Heavenly Choruses. With so many angels lost, and so many of the songs corrupted, there was no room for them anymore._

_All they could afford was to work, double and triple responsibilities to make up for the Fallen, and extra policing to make sure that nobody else would be lost._

_They were Her tools, and serving Her was the greatest reward. Any feelings of discomfort or depression or anything else paled in comparison._

_All that pesky baggage would fade soon, they assured themselves. Best to work until that happened._

* * *

If they closed their eyes and concentrated, Sandalphon could still picture Heaven as it had been. Filled with angels and song, everyone was content because things were as they should be.

With such a severe punishment, it seemed like knowing good versus evil would be simple. But nobody was quite sure why some angels who'd abstained from the recruitment had fallen, why some who'd happily sung along had remained, and what (if any) key distinction there was between the two.

Someday, they'd assured each other, they would understand and memories would fade so they could move on safely. But someday never came.

Sandalphon shouldn't have been surprised that they blended back in with their fallen brethren so easily. Maybe it'd have been different if the former Archangels hadn't still been themselves around all the changes which were just inherent to demons. But they were still recognizable, just as they had always hoped and just never had the courage to check.

Since they'd come down, all of them had fallen into an easy conversation that made them completely lose track of time. If Sandalphon didn't stop to correct theirself, they would swear that it felt like the old days were back.


	18. Chapter 18

_ Gabriel’s lightning had turned the sand under his feet into glass.  It glistened like nothing he’d seen before, and he would have loved to examine it. But right then he had a job to do, and a line of Archangels to look strong for. _

_ Nobody had actually seen the group that now referred to themselves as “demons”.  One had evidently gotten into Eden to corrupt the first humans, but they’d made it in and out without being spotted. So none of them could actually prepare for what they were about to be put against.  _

_ They stood firmly to present a united, and powerful, unit. And they continued to do so for what felt like far too long.  _

_ The line collectively stiffened when a slight rumble came from below. It seemed to move down the line of them before it disappeared. The angels were once again left to wait for another unnecessarily long period. _

_ "If they're going to be like this…" the Metatron began, irritably. _

_ He wasn't able to finish before there came a rumble, much louder and stronger than before. The angels braced themselves as the ground shook and finally ruptured.  _

_ The demons emerged, one for one with the Archangels who’d braced themselves but not quite enough. They’d known the demons would be different, so far removed from Her grace but not… that. _

_ And in the center, dwarfed by the hulking beasts some of the demons had become, was… Gabriel took a sharp breath.  _

_ No, no. He had to do this. _

_ Gabriel strode forward, and the demon followed suit, to meet between the two lines.  _

_ Where Seraphiel's grace had been now festered, where her hair had been silky and perfectly groomed it was now jagged and filthy. And her eyes… her eyes hadn't changed at all which put a pit into his stomach. _

_ "Good to see you again, S-" _

_ The demon held up a hand for silence, though the flies around zem buzzed incessantly. "You will addrezzzz me az Lord Beelzebub. And  _ _ only _ _ Lord Beelzebub." _

_ “A lord now,” Gabriel said with a congratulatory hand motion. “Certainly moving, er… down in the world.” _

_ Beelzebub’s brow pulled down.  _

_ “Well, how would you phrase it?” he incredulously asked. _

_ Ze frowned a bit more. "Let'z juzt get thiz over with." _

_ The pair turned and strode together. They stopped before the Metatron whose patience had run out a long time before. _

_ "Are there any more interruptions?" He demanded. _

_ The two leaders answered "no". _

_ He looked them both over harshly, but continued. "I bring instructions from Her Holiness." He cleared his throat, and spoke so all attending could hear. "There shall be a world. It shall last for 6,000 years, and end in fire and flame." _

_ He continued on about the great war to prepare for, the Horsemen (4 of them, even though there were only 3 now), and an Antichrist who would begin, end, and then begin it all. The Metatron's words carved into stone tablets as they were spoken. _

_ It hadn't been very long since the war had just stopped. Nobody really considered anything settled, and both lines behind them listened intently.  _

_ Gabriel shot a look at who was now Beelzebub. Ze glanced back out of the corner of zir eye. Their jobs were delayed, not over, and that was… that was their job and that was all there was to be said on the matter. _

_ Once the instructions had been given, the Metatron said “And it is so ordered.” _

_ “And so shall it be done,” both replied automatically, even if Beelzebub reacted like ze’d tasted something sour afterwards. _

_ The pair took their respective tablets and headed back to their lines. With a very short look at each other, they led their people back to their respective offices. _

* * *

"I cannot  _ believe _ you let it get that bad!"

The tour had continued, but Dagon's mind never managed to leave the file room. Even \the grandiosity that was Michael’s office wasn’t enough to snap her out of it, which was a sticking point but Michael would let it go (she supposed).

“We don’t really need a filing system in Heaven,” she explained for the dozenth time.  “If you need something you just-” She held up her hand, and almost as quickly a file appeared in it. “Like that.”

"Do you have any idea," Dagon said, voice forcefully calm, "How much I fantasized about how amazing your system must be? And then you're just going to tell me that it doesn't matter?"

"Oh it matters a lot. That's why I know you're currently fantasizing about fixing it."

Dagon slammed her hands on the desk. She glared, her fierceness a direct contrast to Michael's knowing smirk.

Though she tried, Dagon was definitively the first to break. "How many staffers do I get with this?"

"There are six in the…" She picked up and read a paper that appeared on her desk. "Five. Seems your friend got themselves a transfer out of this office."

"Shame."

* * *

"Zo did you put Metatron'z head on a pike?"

“Hm?” Gabriel asked without opening his eyes.

“For cauzing all thiz mezz,” ze said. “He had to have mizinterpreted at the leazt.”

“Not at that point he wouldn’t have,” Gabriel replied, confidently. “And I’m not so sure he  _ was  _ wrong. I re-read the prophecy, and everything he said would happen technically did. We prepared for 6,000 years, the Horsepeople rode, the Antichrist recreated the world." He thought for a moment and added, "Would explain why we weren't given any instructions about what to do after.”

“Not like She gave them to uz lazt time either, but you know.”

“I think she just needed us to get to this point to-.”

“To mezz with uz,” Beelzebub cut in.

He nudged zem. “I was going to say ‘to fit her ineffable plan’, actually.”

“Zame blezzed thing.”

“So…” He turned himself to look over at zem. “If you’re so resentful, and I understand why don’t get me wrong but… Why would you want to come back up?”

“It’z not a want,” Beelzebub admitted after an incredibly pregnant pause. “We weren’t made to be zo far from her, that waz the ultimate punishment and it eatz at you every day. Pluz Hell iz juzt the worzt.”

“It smells pretty terrible down there,” he agreed.

“You didn’t even go to the worzt plazez.”  Ze smirked. “Did you want a tour?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

* * *

"Drives you crazy, don't it?" 

Uriel was jerked rather roughly from her train of thought. "What?"

The angel sidled up next to her and jerked his thumb toward the latest batch of demons to come out of the elevator. "Finally get the place the way you want it, then guests track a bunch of mud in."

"It's what She wants," Uriel said, firmly.

"Yeah, but doesn't mean that has to be what you want."

She kept her eyes on the group to acknowledge him as little as possible. "That sort of talk led to the Fall."

The angel laughed. "Then nobody tried to recruit you.”

"They did! I just didn't let them keep talking." She scowled over at him. "And you're not really an authority on what keeps someone from falling."

The angel grinned. "Think I'm the best Heaven's got by a long shot. And I can tell you, it wasn't about just wanting something different than God did. Would have fallen much earlier for that."

"Giving into vices, then?"

"Your traitor is still sporting a halo while he stuffs his face, yeah? And it can't be doing what She didn't order 'cause all of you are still up here."

Uriel went quiet in concession.

"Best I can figure," the angel shrugged, "It was just us wanting to see the door. And She, ya know, shoved us out."

“So then why are you back?”

“No clue,” He admitted. “And I dunno why they’re up here either, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Uriel dropped her voice to nearly a whisper. “I just wish She would speak plainly to us. The last time we thought She had, and…”

“Thousands of years down the drain,” he finished.

“And now we have to guess.” She looked over, brow pulled. “What if we’re wrong again?”

He smirked, “Always room to cram more in the pits.”

“That’s the least comforting thing you could have possibly said.”

“Yeah. But look.” He motioned to the angels and demons that mingled by the elevator. “Least you know you’ll be among friends, right?”

“I thought demons didn’t have friends.”

“Ain’t a demon, anymore. Don’t have to make up words for it. And since nobody gets me as an angel, I can tell you it’s ok to be mad a while. Get piss drunk if you have to. Not gonna hurt anybody.” He rethought a moment and added, “Unless you do, and that’s fine too. And when you’re done, ditch the paperwork long as you can and join the party.” He waved when he saw the right demon. “I’ll see you later, right?”

“Right.”

Hastur came over with the smirk he reserved exclusively for Ligur. “You wiley bastard. Should have known you’d make it out of that.”

The angel, who hadn’t yet come up with a proper new name, grinned back. “And leave you alone? Can’t let that happen.”

Uriel watched the pair walk off and decided that there was a possibility he was right. Maybe an angel who'd been devout for millennia was completely allowed a bit of frustration, and then to blow off a bit of steam.

She was absolutely going to make sure her office was locked tight before she did, though.


	19. Chapter 19

The wind had picked up, and the temperature had dropped, as the day wore on. Too stubborn to change locations, they unfurled their outermost wings to create a dome over themselves.

“Zo what now?” Beelzebub asked. “No war to plan for anymore, no reazon to keep tempting zoulz.”

Gabriel took a deep breath, thought for a while, and then shrugged. “She clearly wants us back together, so that should be our main priority right now. But I don’t know what Her plan is from there. We might never know.”  
“Wonderful.”

“Mm.”

After a while of thought, Beelzebub said, "You know… it might be that She juzt doezn't have a purpoze for uz anymore."

"That’s ridiculous," he scoffed, “Of course She does.”

"She made uz to build the univerze, and that’z been done for a long time. Zo She gave Herzelf 6000 yearz to come up with another job and juzt… didn't. Maybe couldn’t.” Ze shrugged. “I think it fitz."

Gabriel couldn't say it didn't, necessarily, but he could never agree to something like that. 

"And if She couldn't figure out one in all that time, we might never have one again."

"We will."

"Might not."

"She wouldn't do that!" He insisted. "She would never just leave us."

Beelzebub turned zir head, unimpressed. "You know you’re talking to a leader of the Fallen, right?"

"I _know_. That was different. What you’re saying now is… it’s not Her. We’re just dealing with more ineffability. We're dealing with it now, and it ended… well, badly. But…" Gabriel choked a bit at the last word.

"But?" Ze pressed when he hesitated for too long.

Gabriel brushed it off, and put on a smile to cement his decision. "Anyway, the more I think about it the more I’m actually glad the war didn’t actually happen.” He caught zir look and nodded, “No, really. Michael had said I wouldn't be able to do my duty if I got too close. But, given our history… I don't know if I could have done it anyway." His voice had gone small, almost inaudible with the wind that leaked through their feathers. It returned to normal volume with, "But thankfully She has willed-"

"Enough about Her will,” Beelzebub sneared.

He faulted. "What?"

"I don't care about what She wants. She led uz on for thouzandzzz of yearz for nothing at all. And now I’m zuppozed to care what She may or may not plan? No.” Ze crossed zir arms to shut out more of the cold. “I should have ztopped caring zenturiez ago when She threw me out. Embarazzing how long it took me to wize up."

"That's a horrible-"

"No it'z not. That you can't admit you do or don’t want anything zubzzztantial without begging Her to zupport it iz what'z horrible. I’m shocked you don’t pray over your blezzed zuitz." Ze turned zir head from him and scowled. "If you have zomething to zay becauze _you_ want to zay it then fine. But don't you dare bring Her into it." Ze slunk back. "And if you can't do that… "

Beelzebub didn't finish. Ze really didn't have to.

* * *

Angels didn’t… partake. 

Any inclination to do so had fallen with the Nephilim and all of those who’d even considered producing one. It was best to just avoid anything that might upset God, because you never knew what slight would be enough to fall for.

So Michael hadn’t, though it also didn’t necessarily surprise her (if she were honest) that Dagon did “frequently, and very well”. It was just something to be expected of demons, Michael had supposed. But that did lead to a terribly embarrassing imbalance when it came time to… well… match skills.

She’d spent time after that researching and gathering supplies, and had a desk drawer ready for the end of the tour. Dagon was set to be completely in awe, Michael was sure, at least until she’d derailed the whole thing with her outrage over the filing system.

Michael now could only sit to the side and watch as Dagon whipped the records department into what they all had to admit was actual shape.

And, somehow, watching her command attention and respect like this, Michael didn’t mind the wait.

* * *

Uriel propped her feet up on the row in front of her as she reclined deeply into the theater chair. She'd sat through four movies so far, and there hadn’t been any word. She was also on her third bottle of wine. She'd never touched it before, but saw no reason to avoid it now since Aziraphale…

Aziraphale.

She blurrily looked over to the entrance where the late arrival and his demon lover had appeared. The smart thing would be to run, honestly. Nobody had any idea what they were capable of.

It was rather amazing what enough wine could do for you.

“Do you mind?” Uriel asked, loudly. Her eyes were now stubbornly locked back on the screen.

Aziraphale faultered. His mouth twitched into a nervous smile. “Uriel! What a… surprise. I didn’t expect an Archangel to be here. Did you, Crowley?” he asked with a bit more force. 

Crowley at least had the decency to mutter, “Wasn’t looking for one.”

Aziraphale’s smile stretched more irritably. There was an awful lot to say about Crowley being able to spot Archangels across the globe when he was supposed to be on holiday, but not in the same building when he wasn’t. But that’d probably be a conversation best left until later. Much later, once he saw Uriel actually drinking. Wine, no less.

"You're on quite the break."

"No," she said flippantly. "It just doesn't matter anymore."

"What doesn't?"

"Anything. The Plan is dead and gone, nothing's coming up, God won't talk, and Heaven is crawling with demons. And everyone is _happy_ about that. So." She raised the bottle again and took a drink.

“So…” Aziraphale debated the value of running from an annoyed and inebriated Archangel. “What are you going to do?”

“This is the only way She’ll talk, so I’m going to sit and watch this human garbage until She explains Herself.” Her lip curled a bit. “She owes me that much after 6000 years of loyal uselessness.”

He smiled and put an arm up to steer Crowley back towards the door. “Well, we’ll leave you two alone then. Enjoy yourself?”

Uriel grunted back at him and took another swig as the two rushed off.


	20. Chapter 20

Demons’ greatest, and most dangerous, ability was seeding doubt in the mind. Beelzebub had done it millions of times, enough to become rather incredible at it. Ze could make the impossible thing asked of him seem somehow… rather reasonable. Wanting him to personally choose zem, if he wanted to continue on this thing they'd been doing, wasn't much to ask. It certainly wasn't rejecting God to suggest that it was his decision, and his alone, to spend time...

He was at the dangerous tipping point where thoughts moved into actions.

Thankfully, just before the silence had lingered too long, Gabriel's phone rang. He looked down at the message he'd been sent in relief.

“I’ve got to get back to Heaven,” Gabriel explained. “The Archangels are gathering for a meeting.”

Beelzebub glanced over at him, face professionally blank. "The tranzition iz going that badly?"

"I don't think I would say badly. We expected a lot of transfer requests."

"What'z the problem, then?"

"We'd all known demons would start trying to transfer up as soon as the elevator was running.” He ignored the twitch of an eyebrow he received. “But who would have thought angels would want to transfer  _ down _ ?"

Beelzebub was quiet for a long while, before ze finally muttered, "Fair enough.”

"We'll pick this up again later, then?"

His tone cursed work because he so wanted to continue their conversation. Ze didn't buy it for a second, of course, but ze also couldn't disagree that the princes of Hell would demand to meet soon if not immediately.

"Have an anzwer," Beelzebub said before ze descended.

* * *

_ It'd been easier back in the day when people were less spread out. Yes they were understaffed, but at least they were together to make delegation easy.  _

_ As humans spread out, the forces of Heaven and Hell divied up the continents to cover everything. Gabriel and Haniel had taken to North America to keep Mammon in check. It had worked out very well for several centuries, with the concession of a few gambling towns here and there to secure non-interference elsewhere.  _

_ Gabriel had gotten so used to only having to worry about the three of them that he practically tripped over his own feet when Beelzebub appeared on a bench along his jogging path. _

_ Almost, but of course not quite. _

_ “Didn’t expect to see you all the way out here!” Gabriel looked zem up and down. “And after such a long time away from the surface.” _

_ Beelzebub brow pulled down slightly. Ze changed the way zir legs were crossed as if that might distract from the frock coat and pinstripe trousers. It wasn’t zir fault that humans had the audacity to change things like fashion every decade or so.  _

_ Not that it mattered. They wouldn’t be around much longer. _

_ "It haz begun." _

_ "Oh, right on schedule," he said, with a satisfied nod. "Who'd you put on it?" _

_ "Crowley," Beelzebub said, voice flat and certainly not bitter. _

_ “Quite the choice.” _

_ “Wazn’t mine,” ze admitted. “But he waz good enough for the Garden zo there’z no conzern.” _

_ “Of course not,” Gabriel agreed. “Well, thank you for coming all this way to tell me.” _

_ “I’m on my way to Mammon,” Beelzebub said, sharply. “You were a coinzidenzzze.” _

_ He smiled, understandingly. “Of course. See you on the battlefield.” _

_ Beelzebub nodded and was gone. _

_ Gabriel continued on his jog. After all, with 11 years to go after thousands of years of anticipation, there wasn’t any harm in another hour of delay. He’d inform Haniel to begin to get the archers ready before he reported to head office. He was fairly sure that Michael already knew, though, because she somehow always- _

_ Gabriel stopped short as Beelzebub appeared in front of him again. _

_ He skidded to a halt, and frowned uncomfortably under zir hard stare. “Did you forget some-” _

_ Beelzebub tilted zir head slightly as ze examined him. “You changed your eyez.” _

_ Gabriel perked up, “Oh, yes. I found a wonderful set. Do you like them?” _

_ Zir eyebrows rose ever so slightly, let out a “mm” and was gone again. _

_ He couldn’t quite figure out which was more important, that ze liked his new accessory or that zir eyes were still exactly the same. And why either one felt so good… _

_ He finally decided there were important and easier things to think about. There was a man on the ground, for example, who should be notified to look into things.  _

_ Gabriel snapped to miracle a change of clothes and went off to London. _

* * *

Hastur passed a crumpled pack of cigarettes over, and who had been Ligur took one very eagerly. 

“Been forever since I had on’a these. None of these angels appreciate a good smoke.” The angel tried, and failed, to summon hellfire before he sheepishly leaned over for a light. “Keep forgetting I can’t do that anymore,” he muttered. “And there’s no use in making water.”

“None,” Hastur grunted. He exhaled roughly. “So, how’s it like up top?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged. “‘T’s Heaven. Nice, bright, tons of space...”

“So why do you sound so miserable? You wanted to get back up there worse than anyone.”

He sneered, a look which seemed terribly out of place next to the grace on his skin. “Too bright, too much space, no music.”

Hastur gagged on the smoke. “What do you mean no music?”

“Nothin!” he insisted. “Thought I heard one whistling once but it was a bird from the Garden. ‘Mean, I like no more leaks, but that's not a fair trade.”

“Its not, but a dry ceiling... I'd kill for that,” Hastur said, voice gruff but more than a bit wistful.

“Used to think that, too.”

“Since when do you give up that easy? Make some blessed noise.”

He tapped off the ash in thought. “How much pull you got?”

“Mine and almost all’a yours. I’ll have to tell you about the brawl to get it,” Hastur said with a smirk. “What do you need?”

* * *

It'd been centuries since all of the archangels had gathered, and it felt significantly longer than that. And this time it was in Michael’s territory, which practically obligated her to make sure it was perfect.

Of course, that also applied to Uriel who had disappeared quite a while ago. She had not only given no indication about where she was off to, but she’d also made it very clear nobody was meant to find out.

Michael had never once considered herself to be subject to those sorts of rules, of course, so she took to the side to call and demand Uriel get back up. She hadn’t participated in any of the prep, and Michael was not about to let her miss-

**She’s busy.**

Michael felt a jolt go through her entire essence. She stood, slack jawed, and managed to eek out “of course”.

The line went dead. 

Michael turned back to the group, which looked at her expectantly. She gave them a tight lipped, professional smile.

“Uriel is on  _ official  _ assignment right now. She’ll be back when it’s done.”

The others nodded, reverently, and moved on with their meeting.


End file.
